Robin Song
by snowhiskers
Summary: I couldn't expect how this would end. I couldn't foresee the twisted tricks, the alliance, the terrible mutations of the capitol that where always there, in scaring disguise. Now I wish I hadn't shot down all my chances. Chances to take this hurt away.
1. Unsaid

**The story is now complete! So for anyone already reading this, remember that there is a scroll bar in the chapters menu. So yes it is complete.**

**For anyone new, Hope you like this intro/prologue!  
**

Up, down, up, down. The two wooden hulls slapping the waves. A slightly torn sail, full in the billowing wind. I should be at the front. Poised on the slippery beam, warning of the shallow reefs. But no. I'm safe at the stern. Facing backwards, ready to catch anything that escapes my fellows at the front. No spray, no waves. Just the same rocking, up, down, up ,down.

Obviously there's no fish to get, they're all being skewered by Clypse and Argen. It's no wonder newbies get this spot. Then again I'm not the type to kill the fish, their eyes send sending silent whimpers. Much better to scale the mast and ignore the death that goes on over the nets bellow.

There's a splash and I know someone's lost their footing on the slick beams that keep the two hulls from wandering their own separate ways. Nobody makes a fuss and I'm actually glad because I finally get to do something. I lean over the stern and grab his hand as bramble bobs by. It's only his second year on the water but he's already one of the preferred sheet handlers. The fact that he was scouting today further proves that whoever organized the jobs must have been high or something.

I pull bramble up because his balance is questionable. He nods a thank you and teeters back to his position. On any normal day we would have exchanged a few words, but everyone is quite. We all know tomorrow two innocents will be sentenced to their deaths.

It's easy to remember the day they announced this year's quarter quell. The letter reading was mandatory viewing, and as always you'd have to be off in the head not to be horrified.

The words where stated so matter of fact, that it took a few moments to understand them, but once I did, the words stuck. "In honor of the 100th hunger games and 4th quarter quell, this year children will be eligible for reaping from the age of eight, each having equal chances of becoming a tribute." They are still ringing in my ears.

Now I'm thinking about all those eight year olds that are going to be slaughtering each other in the arena. Well, not just them, everybody else has the same chances. I do the math in my head and theoretically there should be two to three of them in the games. That is, discounting volunteers. There's going to be a lot of those now that all those little brothers and sister are eligible.

I break away from my thoughts but they quickly suck me back in. I've noticed that the noise of tridents hitting the water is rhythmic, not the usual enthusiastic race to impale anything that moves. They still do but I can tell I'm not the only one thinking about tomorrow. Clypse is in a state of mourning. She's got younger twins that are nine. Lucky me, I'm an only child. So I'm not worrying about myself. I've never needed to take tesserae, Both my parents are working in our family business. We're not rich in any way but we get by relatively well. When that all knowing slip is drawn, my name has an incrementally small chance of being written on the smooth paper. Somehow the thought doesn't cheer me up because if I'm not going, someone else will. Plus there's no female careers this year. Lucky boys. Everyone knows Thales Flannery is going to volunteer this year. He's been training for the quarter quell since he was a toddler. He's eighteen now and most of the district expects him to be coming home after the games. That's the only reason I remember his name.

A bell tolling startles me and I accidentally dig my fingernails into the wooden planks. I'm not sure why but It doesn't really matter. I stand up and recognize that our boat is headed towards the docks, it's not just the familiar landscape but the bell means we're free for the rest of the day.

By the time we're securely moored, there's a hint of black edging up the pink sky. It's not even six o'clock but the days are still relatively short after the long winter. Once everyone has finished taking care of their equipment we group up to say our daily goodbyes. But none come. I'm left thinking solely of tomorrow

**=P as we go, I get better at writing. Even so, please review! I love my faithful reviewers that never cease their criticism and encouragement. Even a simple "Liked it" or "A smurf could have wrote something better." would suffice.**

**=D keep reading! and if you are going to, I would advise adding it in you're favorites, not because it's your favorite, just because I've posted the last/second last chapter and the story won't be appearing on the first page after this, you'll have trouble finding it.**


	2. Theoreticaly Dead

**Yes this is uber short, it's like a halfish chapter.. yah. **

I'm being squished in the mass of fourteen year olds around me. Like always I tried to stand with Clypse or at least someone I knew, but yet again I've been separated into the sea of unfamiliar faces. Even so they all share the same expression. Fear.

Since morning I've been occupying myself by carving a little bird that whistles. So far I've only done the noise making part of it, but I'll finish the decorating later. I'm holding it in my hand trying not to drop it. It makes a beautiful noise and I wouldn't have the patience to start over. It's the only thing that reminds me of the fact that I'm coming home. Or at least that's what I keep telling myself.

This year the town square is on the brink of overflowing. I'm hoping that it'll be a bit of a slap in the face for the capitol. By decreasing the minimum age for the quarter quell the only thing they would have been expecting, is another exiting chance to watch kids get butchered.

The mayor gives some sort of speech -that no one listens to-and steps aside to let stubby capitol woman push her way in between the two glass balls that contain the names of everyone eligible to become a tribute. Her hair is neon green and she's wearing a disgustingly frilly dress, that's equally bright. Even though she has no physical resemblance, she still reminds me of the grim reaper. I almost laugh because imagining her in a black cloak and holding a scythe is just too funny. But now is no time to laugh because she's reaching up to take a slip of paper from the girls section. The crowd has been silent since the start of the reaping but now as if on cue a baby starts to cry. I'm wondering who brings a baby to watch kids get sentenced to death when I hear the woman calling a name in her clipped capitol accent.

"Ember Hastletine" ring out through the square. I know I should move now but I'm frozen in place. The grim reaper woman has not just metaphorically killed an innocent girl. She has just metaphorically killed me.

**Continue reading ze other chapters and hopefully you will be happyfied.**


	3. Speechless

I don't know how long I stand there before someone pushes me towards the stage. I falter for a second before my numb feet find their footing and I slowly make my way towards the stage. The frilly woman is getting angry and once I reach the top step, she actually yanks me up with her fake nails.

Now that I'm standing there, I feel like I should have been quicker. More dignified. The feeling only increases when the career, Thales Flannery, volunteers and proudly takes the stage. I stiffly step away from him. He's too arrogant. Too successful. And way too pretty, Soft brown hair and hazel eyes. I feel like throwing up. Gladly, he acts like if I wasn't there and a few people hoot and clap for him. The noise is probably drowning out my mothers weeping.

I don't notice when the anthem ends, but suddenly I'm sitting on a soft red velvet loveseat. The floor is shaking ever so slightly, and The light coming from a window behind me is flicker in a way. It takes me a moment to notice I'm in a train. I still feel unwilling to move, so I don't.

Finally I give in because my hand feels cramped and sweaty. I lift it to eye level and notice I'm squeezing the to be bird whistle. The sight of it brings me to reality and I slide of the chair, onto my knees, and eventually find myself on the floor. A single tear roles down my cheek, it releases a downpour. I lie there, soaking the plush carpet with my tears letting a mixture of feelings well up inside me. What are they? Fear? Anger? Loss? I don't know exactly when they boil over, but it sends me into fits of screaming and whimpering. All of my muscles are clenched so tight that I'm quickly tired. I don't feel it until the tears stop coming and all I can do is lay gasping on the ground.

When I wake I'm struggling to figure out how I fell asleep. Lying on the soft wet ground. Someone is stroking my cheek and it feels so nice. I don't want them to leave. I work on steadying my breathing until I notice how dry my throat is. I slowly open my eyes, which is difficult because my wailing has caused a layer of salt to glue my eyelashes together.

The hand slows, and I turn my head to look at its owner. Staring back at me is an old woman, her soft white hair swirling past her shoulders. She looks at me with a hint of a smile and I can't help but relate her to a field of wild flowers. Part of me wonders who she could be, but mostly I'm just happy she's here beside me.

I feel the woman freeze before I hear the hard knock on the door. Before I know it her soft caress is gone and she's standing up with a rigid look on her face. The frilly lady slams open the door and I'm starting to wonder if she's always this mad. She takes one look at me curled up on the floor and the old woman standing there, and knits her nonexistent eyebrows so tightly that I feel like laughing again. But of course, I don't. She steps past my head –almost skimming my face with her three inch high heel, that's equally as monstrous as her dress- and proceeds to smack the woman across her check with her puffy hand. The old woman doesn't flinch, but in a second I'm tackling the frilly lady to the ground. She struggles, and with a sudden burst of energy, heaves my light frame off of her. She rolls onto her legs and scowls at me while simultaneously brushing invisible dust off of the folds of her dress. She stomps over to the door but hesitates with the door handle already gripped in her palm. She turns and flashes some sort of remark to the woman before whipping the door closed behind her.

I turn to the old woman, and I can tell she see's my confusion. As if to answer me she approaches and opens her tongue less mouth in my direction. She is an Avox.

I've seen them in some of the other games. Never speaking, never uttering a single sound. Literally a wordless reminder of the capitols power. As if massacring 24 sons and daughters isn't enough.

The woman lets me digest it all before leaning over and wiping a tear off my cheek. I don't even know why it's there. She takes my hand in hers and brings me over to a small bathroom. The fact that I didn't notice it before proves my incapacitation. What other things won't I notice? An enemy? An ally? A knife in the back? I really need to focus. ..But why? I have no chance anyway. Or do I? No. No, I don't.

I'm lost in thought while the old woman clears my face of salt, and the remnants of my plight. Usually I would refuse her help. Thank her, and send her off. But I don't want her to leave. And there's no way I'd bother with my face if she did.

A pang of sadness hits me as I'm about to ask her to distract me from my worries. Talk to me about something. Anything. I wouldn't care if it was some lecture about grammar. But then I remember her tongue. The capitol. The games. It's too much for me. But I've exhausted my supply of salt water, so I'm left with a cramped hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

The avox woman smiles at me through the mirror when she finishes. I weakly smile back and choke out a thank you. As she leads me to my bed, she looks at me in this weird way. Like if I'm going to collapse at any second. I guess it's true, I will. But I reach the bed first. She tucks me in and even gives me light kiss on the forehead. As she leaves I wonder how she knows just what will help me. Then again, as an avox, she must have felt my pain.

At some point the avox woman comes in with a glass of warm milk. As I sip, I can feel myself relaxing. I just manage to put the cup on the side table before I'm pulled under the warm blankets of sleep.

**Oooh. Tell me what you think.**


	4. Knots

**Hurray! Finally a long chapter!**

I wake to the sound of hard rapping on the door. I recognize the frilly ladies voice as she orders me down to breakfast. I slip out of bed and feel my body complain. I never fully realized how tiring crying is. I make my way to the bathroom and explore it with my eyes. There's the toilette. A very fancy sink that has innumerable buttons and shelves blended into its furnish. The floor is a seamless slab of rock. I actually run my fingers along the incredibly smooth surface. Then there are the walls that I noticed even yesterday. They look like windows that peer out into some nature paradise. At the moment, one of the walls is displaying the sun rising over a snow capped mountain range. A buttoned panel catches my eye and I fiddle with it until the scenery changes. I'm standing in snow. I laugh because even though it's not cold there are snowflakes falling from the ceiling. Part of me feels disgusted because while the capitol people enjoy such luxuries, most others can't even afford to survive. For the districts, life holds an expensive price.

I frown at the wall but I can't help skimming through the rest of the presets. Not having some fun won't help anyone. After I select a background to my liking I finally undress and step into the shower. It's built into the wall and blends with the fake scenery. I'm not surprised to find yet more buttons on the smooth walls. I inspect them without success. Eventually I just press a few random ones that look pretty. I immediately feel a warm mist engulf me as the walls come to life with steamy rain. Finally, I can almost forget myself in the drizzle.

The shower turns off as I step out of the bathroom. I open the top drawer of a sleek cabinet and find it full of capitol dresses. I slam it shut and scourge the rest of the drawers until I find something normal. I settle for dark brown khaki pants and a soft cream shirt.

I brush my hair and teeth before leaving my room. No ones in the hall but my eyes rest on a flashy map embedded in the wall. It takes a minute to notice that it's touch screen, and another to find the breakfast room.

I find my way through the plush halls and enter the room. The first thing I notice is the food. It's literally piled on the table making a rainbow. Then I see Thales Flannery sitting relaxed in one of the sofa chairs. I make sure to sit on the other side of the room. He's nibbling on a baguette so I take the cue that I can eat. I'm famished so I grab some sort of fancy roll filled with jam. Usually I'd finish it in a blink, but Thales is making me uncomfortable. So I sit until two woman walk into the room. Their names come to me immediately. Crescentia Delaine and Jaylyn Tucknott.

Crescentia was a classic career that won three years ago. Her flowing gold hair and blue eyes gave her many capitol adorers.

On the other hand was Jaylyn. Like me, she was picked when no careers could take her place. The capitol people ignored her as there were more exiting tributes in the eighty-ninth hunger games. Her average stature and black hair where lost among the crowd. She won with trickery and proved herself cleverer than all the others.

This year they would be our mentors. Crescentia for Thales and Jaylyn for me. Whenever there was only one career out of the district four tributes, the other would be mentored separately by Jaylyn.

The pair seated themselves on a soft couch forming a triangle between the people in the room. They both look over the food before picking out their breakfast. I take a few small bites out of the roll but I don't feel like eating anymore. Not because I'm not hungry but because I'm sitting in the same room as three of the most famous people in all of district four.

After a few silent minutes Jaylyn ushers me closer to the television as Crescentia does the same with Thales. Just as I'm deciding what to do with the remnants of the roll, the screen comes to life as it begins the recaps of the reaping.

District twelve is the first to appear. The small rundown square, is not even full. I'm trying to figure out how I will remember all the tributes when The girl is called. The crowd lets out a gasp as a nine year old stumbles towards the stage. She's quickly replaced by a girl that looks like her sister. Same black hair and grey eyes. Then again they all look the same in district twelve. She takes the stage but you can already see tears streaming down her face. From what I see, she'll be gone fast.

Then there's the boy. Even before being called he stood out of the crowd. He's way over six feet and has bleach white hair. His name is Ostrix.

The scene quickly moves to district eleven where the square is so full that you can see the crowds leaking out into the small roads. When the girl is called, I can tell she'll be a worthy opponent. Her hair is a deep chocolate brown and so are her eyes. Then there's the boy. Rowin Ausbrooks. He's in the fourteen year old section which is really crowded, so it takes a while for him to get to the stage. Once he's there he seems striking because he's different from almost all of the faces around him. Auburn hair that fell in short waves. As the camera zooms in the expressions of the two tributes I note the short exchange between them. His green eyes sending warnings at her sneering face. They're both tall but somehow she's almost as giant as the district twelve boy.

I remember most of the first and last tributes throughout the rest of the reaping but I really suck with names. There's the careers from districts one and two. But I gasp because the district two boy is only eight! He walks to the stage proudly like if it were no problem. Then there's this creepy guy from district seven who smiles at the camera in this statistic way. There's a small thirteen year old girl from district six and one ten year old from eight and one from three. When district four comes up. I'm expecting to look the way I feel. But somehow I don't. I wasn't trying to but the way I walk up to the stage makes me seem independent and almost at ease. I don't remember whipping my hand on my pants after the frilly lady shakes it, I'm glad I did because it makes her look like filth. What a joke. I actually didn't just sign myself to death. I give myself a little hope until Thales walks up. I'm actually in his shadow when he stands up. I surprise myself when I move away from him. Out of his shadow and into the sun. The rays catch on my bronze hair and I let out a gasp because the camera is drawn away from Thales and onto me. I hear him growl from the other side of the room. I whip my head around I can see him staring at me, gripping the chair so tightly his fingers are puncturing the fabric. His piercing eyes make me look away, make me feel like I did something wrong. He clearly thinks so.

The anthem plays and the screen goes black. Thales tears himself from the chair and stalks across the room. Slamming the wooden door behind him. "What's his problem?" I burst out before I can stop myself. "What's YOUR problem?" Crescentia practically screams in her shrill voice. I cringe into my chair, glad that Jaylyn is between us. Suddenly Jaylyn takes my hand and leads me out of the room. She turns her head and scowls at Crescentia. From the way Jaylyn walked around her I can tell their not as friendly together as they seem.

She leads me to a large room that is mostly empty except for a small seating area. We sit down and I immediately ask "what happened back there?"

She sighs "Thales…he really wants to win, and having the attention directed towards you is not going to help him.

"but I didn't do anything!" I reply slightly annoyed.

"I never said you did. But to him and Crescentia, your existence is a problem."

Jaylyn countered. I shake my head. "It's not my fault I was born."

"I know."

Somehow, her reply takes me off guard. It seems like she might actually try bringing _me _home alive, not Thales. "so you're on my side?" I ask. She chuckles and pulls out a knife from her pocket and hands it to me.

"we'll just have to see, won't we." I stand up from the chair and twirl the knife between my fingers deciding how to use it. She clearly wants me to show her something she can work with. I run the dull edge over my palm and smile. This I can do. I've always had a knife with me since I first started to carve. I toss it into the air and catch the handle in my right hand. Then with a quick motion I drive it into the far wall. I glance in Jaylyns' direction, but she just nods her head at the knife. I walk over to it and pull it from the wood. I run back to her before continuing to do whatever things I thought might be useful in the arena. I end by impaling the table, and then slowly lift my eyes to Jaylyns.

She seems relatively happy but I feel slightly disappointed when she stands up and walks away. I watch her curiously when she doesn't go through the door as I excepted but proceeds to stop at the wall I stabbed. She touches her hand to a metal plate and the wall slides to the side. She's standing in front of a steel shelf that is lined with weapons. I walk over to her and she tosses me a bow and arrow. I've seen them in other games but never used one.

After I let lose a clumsy arrow that barely reaches the other side of the room, Jaylyn takes it from me and replaces it with a sword. I try to use it like a knife, which fails. It feels too heavy and I know this will end badly, so I place it back onto the shelf. Jaylyn stands beside me and comments. "you clearly haven't been trained, but maybe you would be good with close combat." "Close combat!" I say with disbelief." I'd get hacked to shreds before I got close enough to even throw the knife!" "So you immobilize your enemy. Problem solved." She replies before closing the shelf and strolling out into the hall.

I know whatever she said must have some value, but I get angry because I doubt I'll get my hands on some paralyzing ray gun while I'm in the arena. I walk to my room and fling myself onto the bed. I lie there until I notice the bird whistle. It looks so rough that I feel like I need to finish it. Scooping it up, I walk out into the hall. Consult the map and grab a knife from the kitchen. I sit on a squishy chair that's positioned beside a large window. I finish up the whistle mechanism and stop to admire my work. I'm surprised to notice that the train has stopped. I look out the window, we're in what looks like some sort of station. I'm pretty sure that the ride takes over two days but I make my way over to a door to check. I step out and notice that I'm on a sleek veranda at the rear of the train. A forest full of pine trees stretches along the rails. I've only seen these trees in previous hunger games because it's too hot for them to grow in district four. I sit in a patch of sun and let my mind wander as I carve the shape of the bird.

I don't know how much time has passed before my hands decide the bird is done. I inspect it's shape and surprise myself. It's not like any bird I've seen. I mull it over when a twitter startles me. I look up to find a plump red chested bird staring from the railing. Its back and wings are dark and as I lift the carving up to eye level I notice it looks the same.

At that the bird flies away and the train comes to life. A capitol attendant rushes onto the porch and takes me inside. He begins to ask if I need anything, but I quickly cut him off with a simple "I'm fine". I'm about to walk away when he notices the carving. "OOOOOOOH!" he squeals in a clipped capitol voice. "May I see that?" I hand the bird over to him as he turns it over in his hands

"Looks like you've carved a robin" He comments. "A what?" I ask. "A robin!" he laughs but I don't get what's so funny. "They're quite common." He continues. He places the bird in my hand and gives me this weird smile before twisting on his heal and walking away.

_A robin_ I think to myself _so that's what it's called._I wander through the halls until I reach my room, where I place the bird whistle on my bedside. Then I set out to find Jaylyn because I truly want to know what she was talking about. I notice the lock on my door so I use it. I take a look at the map and am happy to see that it tracks every one inside the train. Jaylyn is in a room at the front of the train so I eagerly rush to it.

When I step in Jaylyn whips around in her chair. She's holding some random stuff in her lap and fiddling with a rope. She looks surprised to see me but doesn't comment.

"Can I come in?" I ask looking around. I notice a bed and shelves lining the walls. This must be her room. "Sorry." I apologize. "I didn't know this was your room."

"It's fine." She answers calmly. "Actually I was going to come get you, take a look at this." She lifts up the rope she's holding. But it's not just a rope. There are two heavy spheres attached to each end as she untangles the mess on her lap, I can see that attached to the rope is a rough net. I step towards it and she hands it over to me. I run my fingers along the net, taking in the knotted texture. I glance up at Jaylyn questioningly and she starts to give an explanation.

"You'll have to make this in the arena. It's a weapon that is rarely available at the games and I don't want you running head first into the blood bath even if it is." I nod because I know that the killing that goes on at the cornucopia would be suicidal to join. "You're familiar with knots right?" I nod again "So as long as you can find two heavy stones and make at least a few feet of rope you should be fine. This is basically what I told you before. A weapon to immobilize your opponent so that you can finish them off."

I gulp at her choice of words._ Will I really be turned into a killer?_I can barely kill a fish when I'm starving. But when you put on the brink of sanity, I've seen what could happen. Once there where twins from district one that ended up gouging each other's faces in the last battle without batting an eyelash.

Jaylyn continues. "You throw this at your opponent and if you do it right the centrifugal force of the weights will make it go further that if you threw a weapon. If it reaches them, the stones will cause the rope to twist around them. It works better if you can attach a net, but a direct hit to the legs would take even the strongest down." I look at Jaylyn amazed. No wonder she won. "But don't try it in front of other tributes. Not even Thales. The element of surprise will give you the upper hand." I know she's right because the careers train with swords, bows, knives and spears. For example, Even though Thales is from district four, he doesn't practice with a trident, but instead uses swords and the most common of weapons. "Go and try it" Jaylyn finishes.

I do what she says and find my way to the large room with the weapon shelf. I hold the weapon in my hand like if it where any normal net. Letting my fingers grow accustom to the knots while setting my sights on an ornate column. I let the net fly and I can tell we're a perfect match. It flies straight and with a whoosh wraps itself around the embellished swirls. After fully circling around the column it slowly unwinds and sinks to the floor. I can tell that just the impact of the rope would send most tributes sprawling.

With a content feeling success, I retrieve the net and let myself enjoy the rest of the day. Heck, it might just be one of the last I'll get.

**Not so harmless after all? **

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**Don't like it, well, don't be tooo harsh**


	5. Rainbows

**Hope you like it!**

I'm sitting on soft springy earth. Heads of grass bounce from the soil. The trees are like the ones in the north, but they still sound like home. Reminding me of the ocean. Their leaves rustle in the breeze, ah the refreshing wind that could only be coming off water. I feel at peace as I arrange a group of flowers into a sweet bouquet. Around me are mossy boulders that make me feel safe, like nothing could happen. But somehow I know that's not true. A voice in the back of my mind tells me I'm in danger. It tells me to run and hide. But I don't. I just sit and arrange the flowers. I feel a strong breeze begin to tickle at my neck and suddenly a ghostly note comes alive in the silence. As the wind strengthens I hear the note change. And as it differs for the third time I recognize the noise. It is my robin. I whip around franticly searching for it. I don't know why, but I feel like I have to find it. And as I look on the large boulder at my back, I see the robin. But the changing notes are coming from a living beak. This robin is real. But it doesn't move.

The arrow goes through it in slow motion. Only the tip protrudes from its feathers. There is no blood. Only silence. I duck in time to escape the barrage that follows.

_The arrow that took my robin. Should have taken me. _This is the first thought I form as I burst from sleep. My mind is groggy but my body feels like a lightning bolt. Shadows stretch through my room and coat the furniture. The blue night fills the blanks. The enormous windowed side of my room displays the night outside. There is no sun yet, but the first tips of light claw at the treetops.

I can't fall asleep. My mind has cleared and I feel like I need to shiver in the warm room. After tossing in my covers for a few minutes, I can't stand it anymore. So I drag my blankets over my shoulders and step out into the empty hall. I'm not too superstitious, but as I scan the digital map, I can't help but feeling a twinge of fear. _My robin._ I rush back into the room to make sure that it's still there.

It is. I let out my breath and return to the map. I'm surprised to find an elongated pool that I previously over looked._ Yes, swimming should calm me._ I decide. It's something I've always done; it never fails to meet my requirements.

I don't bother switching on the lights as I search for a bathing suit. I don't need one but I feel like the capitol people would get offended or something. It's true that not all of them want me dead. I grab whatever I find first and softly pad barefooted down the train.

I reach two rooms that remind me of the public washrooms in the town square. But the ones in the square don't even count as rooms when I see this. The one I'm in is for girls and I'm expecting it to be pink or something. But it's not. It's even more spectacular than the one in my room. The floor is sand but somehow it doesn't stick to the soles of my feet. It slopes down until it reaches a small clear pool of water. A soft waterfall laps at my feet and radiates with waves of light. As it's the only thing to illuminate the spacious room. The walls are displaying the most stunning sight I have ever seen. My little cove back in district four would cower at the beauty. Sloping smooth cliffs and jungle greenery. It makes me gasp. I change into the bathing suit and lie on the sand. Letting the water tickle my feet while staring at the slowly lightening sky display. When it reaches a dark faded purple I stand and wash under the falls. As I let myself sink into the rippling depths of the falling sheets of water, I find that I'm suddenly in a long room.

This is the main pool. I stand in the skimpy suit and scan the walls. One is a long panel of glass. I can see the scenery flashing by. The rest are shinning falls, the water falling in a single shimmering plane. The room is still dark so the pool is concealed by shadow, it makes me uneasy. After the initial wonder passes, I'm left feeling scared.

There is someone here.

Fear seers through me as my eyes begin to adjust. A lone figure stands waist deep in the far water, their unmoving silhouette blending with the waves. My blood feels like ice. It weighs me down and I can't move my feet. My dream echoes in my mind. The ice grips me with such force .that I can't move, so I force my eyes to strain on the still figure. As I begin to lose myself in concentration I suddenly know who this is. I can't see his face he's still unmistakable. No chemically engineered capital attendant looks like that.

Thales.

He stands in the water like a statue. Just like me, standing here on the sand. Except that he's radiating anger.

I must be a silhouette to him too. I quickly crouch down as I notice that the skimpy suit must make me look naked in the dark. I don't dare move for the next few minutes but eventually I hear the telltale splash as Thales dives into the water. It's very quite though. I thought I swim quietly. But even in this complete silence he only makes the slightest of noise as he cuts through the water. I can't help but stare.

After watching a few laps I feel itching to go in. But my skin starts to crawl when I think of swimming in the same pool as him. No amount of pretty dives could get me to like him. I am not that shallow. So I just leave through the change rooms. Picking up a fresh towel as I pass.

I toss the bathing suit on the floor of my room, and grab something from the normal drawer. I leave the dark room and switch the lights in the bathroom. The walls display silhouetted sand dunes and the white sun rising in the purple sky. I just leave it and step into the shower. I go over the buttons trying to take my mind off of the pool. But my thoughts won't wander and I can see the dark statue in the water. It makes fear pulse through me. So I jab at the buttons and shiver in the soft foamy spray.

When I get out I wonder why I even took the shower. I was just in the shimmering waterfall a few minutes ago. But then again I don't want any memory of this morning. I'm not sure why it scares me so badly.

I put on the black jeans a green T-shirt that I picked out earlier and quickly brush my teeth and hair. When enter my room again I notice that the forest is almost nonexistent. We must be getting near the capitol. I scan the room for my robin but my eyes rest on a flashy clock. It's six in the morning. I grab the robin from my bedside and go down to breakfast.

Jaylyn is the only one there. She looks up as I come in and motions for me to sit beside her. "So how did using that net go?" she asks . "Oh that." I say, my mind feels preoccupied. "It went really well." "Good."Jaylyn comments. "Here, have something to eat." I see she has a sandwich in her hand, but I just take a little yogurt and pick at it. "Something on your mind?" I mumble in response. I wouldn't be able to explain even if I tried. "Thales?" she whispers. I look up at her; she can clearly see that she's right. "Yah, he is creepy." She says. "Somehow I wouldn't be surprised if he teamed up with that schycodelic kid from district seven." Normally I would laugh at her remark, but laughter seems to be going extinct inside me. So I just nod.

We sit in silence untill three capitol people stumble into the room. Their followed by the frilly lady who must be our escort. The trio argue for a few moments until they notice me. They all squeal and drag me to my feet. I see my prep team has come early.

They jabber in their high capitol accents that are so think I can barely understand what their saying. As they lead me from the room Jaylyn gives me pitying smile and mouths "don't resist.". They bring me to a bathroom like compartment and start prepping me for my stylist. I can barely tell what they're doing but it's not pleasant. From their chattering I learn that the small woman that looks only a couple years older than me, is Fluer. She's constantly flicking back her shoulder length violet hair and straightening her flowing white dress. I have to admit it's one of the less ridiculous costumes I've seen on capitol people.

Then there's Juubi who won't stop laughing. She's got wacked out hair that goes through all the warm colors plus purple. I'm happy she's doing my hair so that I don't need to look at her almost nonexistent clothing. "You hair, is so, BEAUTIFULL!" She squeels for the seventh time since I started counting. I understand why, as in it is a shimmery golden colour that the capitol freaks go obsesive over. Yah, and Fluer keep redoing the small amount of makup over my eyes. She keeps teeling me that she wants to "accent my Atlantic blue eyes". I know alot of people with a similar color, it works because it's the same cour as the ocean we fish in.

The entire time I'm kind of annoyed that I have to be naked and that a guy –Bangle- is working on my body. Even though he's just as bubbly as the rest of my prep team his face must have been surgically altered so that he always looks sad. He's dressed in black with random chains and spikes. It really makes no sense, but then again nothing in the capitol does.

When they finally finish I'm given a loose pair of pants and a soft creamy shirt. They continue jabbering all the way to the main room of the train where I'm stunned by the view. We are in the capitol. The glassy towers stretch into the clouds and reflect dazzling rays of light. Rainbows are cast around the city and onto the bustling streets. The people are cheering and waving as they see our district four train flashing past. I wave back at them through the glass train wall until I can feel us stopping.

I still don't know our escorts name, but I don't really care. She takes me out of the train and into a magnificent building. Thales is beside me but we don't acknowledge each other. The frilly lady takes us into a transparent elevator and we shoot into the heights of the tower. Before I know it the ride is over. I don't want to go to my room yet so I'm happy when the frilly lady just shows us them and continues through the halls.

We end up in an enormous room that is set with a table in the center. Suddenly I notice how hungry I am and I make a move towards the food. When the frilly lady doesn't object I sit down. But Thales just leaves in this angry way. In a few moments my prep team, Jaylyn and a man I don't recognize file into the room. I'm glad Thales left because I don't think I'd eat a mouthful with him staring at me like that.

The strange capitol man introduces himself as my stylist. I'm surprised because he looks so old. Even though he's from the capitol he has a lined face and receding silver hair. His name is Claudio.

As I eat he watches me with the eye of an artist. When he sees I'm finished Claudio pushes his plate back and takes me away from the table. I'm led into a mirrored room and he exchanges a thin robe for my clothes.

I watch him as he inspect me further. He seems better than I dared hope. His hair is a natural grey and from what I see he has no makeup. He's wearing a capitol suit and it seems he may have had a few alterations. One of them being a black rose tattooed beside his left eye.

After a moment of though Claudio steps into a side room and I can hear him murmuring something into a microphone. In a few moments he come back holding a bundle of something. I except him to start styling me but instead he seats me in a fancy side lounge that overlooks Panem. He asks if I would like something to drink, I refuse. A steaming cup of strong dark liquid slides out of table. He takes it in his hands and sips. We sit like that for a few minutes until he finally sets down the cup. I'm usually impatient but this reverie from my troubles helps me relax. Claudio lifts up the bundle and begins to unwrap it on the table.

" I've been talking with your mentor." He starts. I wonder when he met with Jaylyn until I notice he means over the phones that all capitol citizens own.

"And we've decide that you and Thales will dress differently."

_Good, I don' want us to be shown as similar_

."We've come up with a bit of an angle for you. You can't come up looking dependant on him, the fact that you come from district four and have never been trained gives you the disadvantage of looking like suck up."

"I'm not a suck up!" I exclaim.

"Do you want me to finish or not." he asks crossing his gets on my nerves, so I just sit back steaming. "I know you don't like him but we need to make sure the audience knows that. So do exactly as I say or you have no chance of getting home." His words make me scowl and squish myself further into the chair. But I can't argue because it's true, I have no chance of surviving this. " Now then." Claudio says standing up from the chair. "Time to get you ready."

**Yup I am now getting to the more exiting relatively part, so hang in there!**

**Review Review REVIEW! or face my rath.**


	6. Shine

I sit on the ground beside the chariot. Thales is standing on the opposite side beside his enormous horse. The one on my side is mottled white and relatively small, while his is a foot larger and a solid dark brown. I can't help fiddling with my dress. It's a long flowing one that's slightly transparent. Yes I do have a skin tight jump suit underneath. It's white, slippery and coated in something that Claudio says is "special". So as I run the bluish dress between my bare hands, I try not to scrape the stuff from the jumpsuit with my fingernails. They're shiny blue and shaped like scales. Same with my feet because their bare. Usually you wouldn't see them so they made the chariot a circular slab of glass. The strong stuff that they used for the elevator.

When Claudio said me and Thales would be dressed differently, he wasn't lying. Thales is has black ninja looking pants, shiny studded knee high black boots, black leather necklaces laced with shark teeth and no shirt. Another reason I really don't feel like having him stand beside me. I'm usually fine with guys and no shirts but it makes me think of the creepy pool encounter this morning and how easily he could crush my skull. Like most of the careers, Thales is really tanked out. It's customary to display costumes that reflect the district produce –district four being fishing- the only fish like thing he has on is a sling of body length harpoons and some sort of skeleton fish tattoo winding up his arm. But the fish have human skulls. He's definitely playing up the whole "I kill you" thing. And me? I just hope I'm playing up something because right now I'm as terrifying as an acorn. Thales is smiling because my innocent look makes him all the more menacing.

The first Chariots are getting ready to leave so I hesitantly step onto the slab of glass. Thales is already there, stroking a spear. I step as close to the edge, and as far away from him. He's still stroking the spear and staring at me like prey. But hurting a fellow tribute before the games is illegal, so I guess he's just in a "good" mood.

District one rolls out and the crowd roars. They look stunning in their king/queen ensemble. Then there's the district two who are completely submerged in glitter, District three is a hit for once. The eight year old is clothed in some sci-fi suit. It has oddly shaped plates of steel that reverberate with a strange neon pulse. He's holding an assortment of weapons like swords and daggers that are intersecting with lines of the same glowing neon. I have to admit that the stylist did a good job. The blue pulse seems to look like electricity as it whizzes along the edges of the shining weapons. The crowd goes wild. We glide in and for the first time I notice Thales is shadowing me. Just like at the reaping. I'm angry until I notice something is wrong with my dress.

There is a soft light glowing from the inside. I don't understand why some of the crowd has begun to gasp. I look up at the assortment of of screens. I'm not surprised that district twelve's' chariot is on fire like usual. I continue to scan the screens untill my ees pass over the one displaying us. District four.

I stop mid wave and have to bring my hand over my mouth to cover my gasp. My dress is rippling in the wind, the light washes through the hues of blue like water. The wavy light flashes through the glass chariot and echoes over the ground. I am standing in water. Stepping out of Thales shadow with my own light. I quickly turn the hand on my mouth into a kiss, blowing at the crowd. The closest of them are bathed in the shimmering blue light.

I glimpse at my district partner and see he's rigid with anger. For once I understand. He's facing his side of the crowd, but I know his brown eyes are filled with anger, masked by a winning smile.

I quickly turn my head to the crowd and wave. At first saring into their eyes but then letting my sight drift over past them. I know my family will be watching, I try to look calm for them.

The chariots inch along and I finally get bored of waving. I'm about to stop when I notice how my hand block the light and sends a shadow over the crowd. I begin to experiment. I form a butterfly with my hands and flap it in front of me. It sends an enlarged shadow of itself swimming over the crowd. Their cheering subsides my nervousness so I decide to do something…different. I sit over the edge of the chariot and reach my hand out to the crowd. The entire front row-and even some of the farther ones- stick out their hands in hopes for a hi-five, so I give them. Soon my side of the crowd are climbing over each other, my hi-fives are in high demand. But after a few minutes I stand and resume waving. Letting their hands go past untouched. Maybe, just maybe they'll want me back so I can finish giving them.

**Tell me if you like the costumes!**


	7. potatos

**Just going to say that** **the only reason I'm not thanking people for reviews is because I CAN"T! Thanks so much if you reviewed just I can't review anything except for people I have sent messages to (I think that's what the pattern is) I can't even review myself *sob*. as in when I click on the review button it just goes to the top of the page (yes I click the big green review button and not the top of page one.) so if anyone out there has any ideas as to what in turkey marmalade is going on here, please please send me a message or something because it is really getting on my nerves.**

**Anyway, hope you like the chapter!**

Everyone assures me that I was fabulous. My prep team won't go away and even Claudio is satisfied. Jaylyn say I have a chance and my district partner is nowhere to be seen. I follow suit as soon as I get the chance.

My warm bed envelopes me as I fall into it. The plush covers drown me in their endless fluff. But I can't sleep, the games haunt me. I struggle to decide what I want. A quick death at the start? Or wait till the end when it will surely be gory. I think about trying, as to give my family a hope, but would that be fair just to take it away? I'm sad the Avox woman hasn't accompanied me to the capitol. She could help me, but why do I depend on her? She has her own problems. I feel guilty for everything she did for me.

I toss and turn until I find myself on a long beach. The ground is stained with blood. Streams of it trickle from the forest above and pool in the still water. There are boats approaching the sand. I hear cheering but I don't know why. They approach fast and dig into the sand. Capitol people applaud from their rooftops, they are applauding for me. They throw flowers and flash their fancy cameras, but they don't seem to notice the crimson flowing by my feet. I am the only one whose blood has not joined the ocean, I am the last of the twenty-four.

I wake up breathing hard, the soft bed feels suffocating. My dream echoes in my mind as I stand. I know I don't want to win. I don't want to die either, or leave my family in mourning. Maybe if I get back home we can return to normal. Then again, after you've killed, nothing can be the same.

I absentmindedly pull on a sky blue fleece and some pants. I find the bathroom and brush my hair and teeth. Today when I look at the wall scenery it just reminds me of the arena. It's surely going to be horrible because of the quarter quell.

I make my way to the breakfast room and eat in the six a clock light that filters through the glass wall. I am alone but the food is warm and ready. I just eat some oatmeal before leaving. I pace around the halls, ignoring the capitol attendants that greet me. I'm glad for the relative peace that the morning brings, it lets my mind wander.

After a while my thoughts turn to my family. I feel tears swell behind my eyes, so I hurriedly make my way to the breakfast room, hoping for company.

Both mentors and stylists sit around the food. They're not talking much except for the occasional remark. Jaylyn looks up at me the moment I go through the door. I swear, I wasn't making any noise on the soft carpet, her hearing is just crazy.

"Had breakfast?" She asks. "Yah" I nod my head. She pushes her plate aside and beckons me to follow out of the room. The sounds of Crescentia and Thales' stylist bickering accompany us through the hall.

Jaylyn looks down at something on her wrist and states that it's half past seven. We'll be at training by ten.

"Go to as many stations as you can" Jaylyn tells me. "Don't stay long at the weapon ones, but do try them. You never know what the arena will hold." I nod in agreement. We're silent for a bit until Jaylyn sighs. "It's sad that mentor can't actually mentor anyone." I know what she means. The arenas are never the same and nobody could guess what surprises they hold. "all we do is deal with the sponsors, I can tell you they really get on my nerves sometimes." I smile and ask. "Like how?" she laughs. "Some refuse to give money for anything that doesn't include weapons or food." Fail.

We talk for awhile longer, until there's not much left to say. I retreat to my room as I think of my robin. I don't remember bringing it so I get kind of panicky. I want it to be my district token. Truly it's the only thing I have. I rush through the unlocked door and find it on my freshly made bed. The room is sparkling clean.

I sit and fiddle with it, blowing through the tail and placing my fingers on the note holes. It's a nice sound so I feel proud. I wish someone could see it. After a few minutes I get thirsty, so I order some lemonade and it slides into the room on a sleek platform. I always liked it, the twinge of sour and sweet. This one isn't as good as the lemonade we once made at home. Lemons are very expensive. I sit and sip until the frilly lady appears in the door. She barks something at me and leaves. I rush after her towards the elevator. Thales is already there, leaning on the glass doors. He seems unusually angry. The frilly lady presses a flashy button on the wall and the doors slide open. She steps into the center while I retreat into the corner, Pressing myself away from the other two inhabitants of the small glass room.

We descend quickly and the thrill of the floor rising up to meet me makes me happy, almost. We're stepping into the training room before even a minute has passed. The two of us step out in silence while the frilly lady rides back up.

I stare in awe, trying to decide what station I should go to first. Thales is already slicing some dummies with an oversized sword. I feel bad for the cloth dummies; then again I'll probably join their fate a few days from now.

I feel lonely as I wander over to the camouflage station. I wish I had a reasonable district partner that would train side by side. I contemplate moving to a station with other tributes, but I decide against it even before I scan my eyes around the room. The careers have joined Thales in the massacre of stuffing, The giant district twelve boy is using bow in the station next to them. The careers shoot him friendly glances. They seem to want him as an ally, he looks pleased. The girl is beside him, desperately trying to get the arrow strung. The small eight year old from district three is pushing into the career group. He's clearly a good swordsman, but they just ignore his futile attempts to join into the alliance.

I find the psycho from district seven methodically slicing at a manikin that is supposed to be used for camouflage practice. I can see the horrifying scars along its body, now the kid is working at its face with a curved knife. I can see the dismembered plastic eye rolling on the ground at his feet. The sight makes my stomach churn in fear. _The gamemakers will love this kid._

Both tributes from eleven are working at the knife station. The girl is messing with the trainer and the boy is twisting the knife through the air with a look of concentration in his eyes. The girl turns from the trainer and tousles the boys auburn hair teasingly. With lightning speed, he slices the knife at her, just avoiding her face. She flinches back while he drops the knife and stalks to a different station. The trainer is panicking like crazy, The one beside me asks if I need help. I turn and start with the berry dyes.

After I've painted myself into a mossy rock, and been congratulated by the happy trainer, I walk around the room randomly searching for a station to go to. I find myself learning about edible plants. It's funny because although I'll easily remember how plants look and what they're used for, I won't remember what their called. Just like I remember faces and not names.

The trainer is talking about a big leafy plant called dock, when lunch is announced. The careers pull most of the tables together a sprawl out along the chairs. The district twelve boy has joined them and the eight year old is still attempting to. There's very few tables left so almost everyone else is sitting beside each other. I sit with the ten year olds for a bit, but their silent, staring faces make me feel exposed. So I take my plate and walk over to the only empty area in the room. The district twelve boy is already there. Rowin. I think that's what his name is. As I approach, he nods a hello. I nod back while sitting down a few meters away. The silence is better than the awkwardness at the stuffy table. The careers laugh a lot which bothers me, I would throw something at them if I didn't have to face them in an arena full of deadly weapons latter on. I promise myself not to make more enemies then necessary.

One career starts to snicker and pints in my direction. The table bursts into giggles and whispers. I'm starting to feel confused and angry simultaneously. What is that about? It hits me that they might be laughing because I'm from district four but not a career. Somehow I don't think that's why. They quite down after a while, leaving me confused. I don't touch the rest of the food and notice Rowin doesn't either. He's crouching and staring at the careers, looking quite ticked off. I wonder why until I notice that they weren't pointing at _me_, they were pointing at us. _..eh.._ I really feel like brutally attacking something as I notice what they were getting at. Me and him, alone in a corner. I scoot farther away from the rest of the tributes and poke at some potatoes without glancing up.

The rest of training goes by awkwardly. Jaylyn tells me something about doing well and there's almost no talk at dinner. I can't sleep so I roll over in the fluffy bed to stare out at the view of Panem. Before I know it I'm dreaming once again.

**REVIEW!**


	8. A friend

**Yes I know I like dreams and yes this one is short.**

Tonight I know I'm dreaming. The arena is an island, soft lapping waves that flow up snowy white beaches. All the tributes are at the cornucopia, so I play in the sand. I can wake up any time, so why not have some fun? I swim in the turquoise water , staring at the oddly shaped shells that flow with the tide.

Suddenly I'm being dragged, out of the water and up the beach. This is a dream right? But I panic, I can't see them and I can't move. They stop and someone pins me down. I can't feel anything, but soon I notice the blood. It's everywhere, pooling like if it where raining the stuff. I try to wake again. This dream is going in the wrong direction, but I can't. I'm stuck there until morning slowly pulls me out.

Today is training, so I go to breakfast and get ready. Take the ride down the elevator and pick a station. I play with knife throwing for a bit, but after a few tips the trainer notices I don't need any more help. Just as I'm leaving the psycho borrows a knife. He's mutilating a dummy again, except this time the dummy is more realistic, organs and all. I have to turn my head away from the bloody scene. It's just like my dream, which sadly won't slip away from my memories.

I spend an hour or so at the paramedic station. The trainer is describing the proper ways to stitch up a wound and what to use if you don't have thread. She also displays mixtures of berries and plants that are used to heal wounds. After going through as much information as I can remember I travel through the other stations. I don't want to try using the weapons yet so I skip through the less lethal ones.

Lunch comes slow and I'm feeling hungry. I munch on a sandwich in the same place as before. I try and observe the other tributes today, I struggle to remember their names. Finding them from listening to their conversations. The careers are easy to identify.

I already remember Ostrix, the district twelve boy. But the rest escape me, so I focus on them.

District one girl, Opal. She has dark flowing hair with striking highlights. Somehow she doesn't fit in with the rest of them.

District one boy, Dazzle. Sporty and yes dazzling. Golding hair that's so flashy it looks fake.

District two girl, Shimmer. The guys are slobbering over her. She reminds me of one of those purse puppies they wear at the capitol that yap like alarm clocks and look like their eyes are going to bulge out of their face.

Then there's the district two boy, Quake. Small and dull, but not to be underestimated.

I also learn the eight year olds name because he's still trying to sit near them. It's Caleb.

After lunch I visit the rest of the not weapon stations. I try to make friends with some of the non careers, but making friends is something I'm bad at. I sit at the knot tying station and try to help anyone that's struggling. I know usually this would be futile because in most cases almost all tributes would be older than me, and therefore not be willing to wound their pride by accepting a fourteen year olds help. But this year I'm smack in the middle of the age group because of the quarter quell.

I help the ten year olds who seem to have teamed up but they leave quickly. Then along comes the psycho who seems intent on making a noose to hang the separate mutilated body parts of the dummy. I contemplate making friends with him so that maybe if he plans to kill me it will be less painful, but I realize that he'd probably have some fun with his victims, Friends or not.

I'm about to leave when Rowin comes along. We chat awkwardly as I show him how to tie a bowline, I mastered the complex knot when I was five, and he seems to learn it relatively quickly. The trainer displays how to make snares which I also pay attention to, and then after a bit of practice, training is over.

Jaylyn reminds me that I need to practice with weapons and I assure her that I will. She seems pleased and asks if I've made any allies. I shake my head sadly. She just shrugs and tells me that I should try harder.

I sleep well for once and our escort ends up waking me. I review all the names I've learned as we ride down the glass elevator.

I start at the sword station which I'm ok at. I'd be great if I were facing someone who had had as little training as me, but against a career that has had a life's practice, I would be baloney pretty fast. By lunch I've also finished the spear training and some of using a club, but I don't think I want to finish that.

I'm sitting in my corner again, reviewing the names of the other tributes I remember, when I hear my name. I turn my head and see Rowin. He's sitting in the corner as usual. The careers have gotten tired of their little joke and I've noticed a few others have joined the calm space of the corner.

Rowin holds out his hand. "Friends?" he asks. "Friends." I reply after a moment's hesitation. We shake hands. I know I need an ally and it doesn't seem like I have another choice, anyway, he seems nice. There's not much to say, so I we sit in silence for a few minutes before he speaks up. "Soo… you're not a career?" "No." I mumble, swallowing a spoon of my soup. More silence. "I liked your dress, like before, in the chariots and stuff." He states. "Umm." I don't know what to say. I truly don't remember what district eleven was wearing, but from previous experience I know it was probably awful. He sees my dilemma and laughs. "I was corn." I laugh too.

Before I know it, the tributes are being ushered to the district dining rooms in wait to show the game makers what we can do. Thales, Jaylyn, Crescentia and I, sit in the room. Nobody wants to talk. This could decide our fate, get a high score and you'll get a ton of sponsors, plus a ton of enemies. I haven't even thought about what I'll do yet. Well, maybe a bit, but nothing worth remembering.

Thales is called and I know I'll be next. I mull over everything I'm good at and decide on some knife throwing and camouflage. Maybe I'll wind in a bit of everything just to show them I can work with a variety of weapons and techniques. Suddenly I'm being taken to the gymnasium. The game makers are watching intently, I stand confused for a few seconds until my feet take me to the camouflage station. I pull out some dies and I can hear the game makers muttering. They've all turned their attention to some salad that's been placed in front of them. Smart, it's no fun watching someone paint themselves, and that's when I get the idea. Using some strange wet powders, I work with the grays and blacks of my clothing and paint myself into a shadow. A shadow in a city, with dark squares and lines, colors that blend with the equipment.

I take of my shoes and look up to make sure no one's watching. Once I'm satisfied that their staring at some bleached bread that's passing around I quietly scurry behind the knife station, I grab a throwing one and slide under the next piece of equipment. It's dark and perfect down there, If I twist myself right I can fit. I love hide and seek, even being fairly tall I can get into tighter spaces that people smaller than me. But this isn't game. I adjust the position of my arm and send the knife flying across the room. I hear a thump and crash as something falls to the floor. The game makers turn from their food and look around. I'm gone. They start mumbling to each other while looking around with their eyes. I don't know what to do next because I didn't plan that far ahead. Eventually I conclude that I need a knife. Staying in the cover of the sleek metal beams I slink towards the knives. I slide my camouflaged hand into the open and take a few daggers from the shadows. I hold them gently between my fingers, careful not to drop them. I slide back to my previous station; there are many intertwining beams and platforms. I see the punching bags for the first time. This must be for boxing. I silently sent one of the blades into the far bags. I see the slit in it, so I climb under the bars, keeping my back parallel to the ground. I reach the bag, I'm still relatively concealed so I start working my way through the string that holds it. Within a few seconds the bag falls to the ground, the bead like contents spilling over the floor. A few game makers let out a gasp, they still can't see me. To finish off I flip down from the bars and drive the knife into the remaining part of the bag, killing it. It seems that I just displayed myself as a silent killer. Is that what I am? The Gamemakers seem happy and then dismiss me from the room. I'm eager to see my score.

I recount the training to Jaylyn while we wait for the scores. She seems pleased enough so I let myself feel some pride. Now that I know her well, Jaylyn's approval means a lot to me. We eat dinner and then settle in the chairs, intent on the large screen that will display our results. IT comes to life, and in a moment they begin. Opal gets a ten, her partner –dazzle- comes up with a nine. I know that sponsors will be climbing over each other to bet on him anyway. Shimmer comes up with an eight but I know it'll be the same story with her. Quake steals out with an eleven. Everyone in the dining room lets out a short gasp and I can see Thales grasping the fluffy chair murderously. The little boy tribute from three –Caleb- comes up with a nine. Thales doesn't look happy when he gets a ten but I'm ecstatic when I get a nine. I'm hugging Jaylyn and Claudio while they smile at me. I'm grinning like a psycho throughout the rest of the scores, but I still try to pay attention. The murderous tribute from seven pulls a nine too, I wonder if they gave him that score just because the audience will enjoy his victims deaths. The one ten year old from five gets the same as his district, and the ten year old girl from nine only just gets a three. The monstrous girl from eleven gets a ten while her partner –my friend- ties scores with me. Ostrix, the white haired kid from twelve wins a ten.

The anthem ends and everyone digest the information. The room is quite, even as Crescentia stands up and Leads Thales out into the hall. His stylist quickly follows.

"Lots of high scores this year." Claudio declares forlornly.

"Well… Ember's one of them." Jaylyn replies. Usually I would inform her of the fact that I'm right here, but right now the load is weighing on me. My breaths come in a gasping kind of way and it feels like theirs boulders pilled on my lungs. I feel tears welling behind my eyes as I think of what's to come, what's past. I will never see my home again. The reaping comes back to my mind, the day before it quickly follows. My unsaid goodbye ring in my ears, the dock flashes before my eyes. Clypse, my best friend, she always talked about how it would be like if one of us where picked. I never expected it, but she expected everything, she was never taken by surprise.

.I pull away from the dining room and find myself stumbling through the halls. Running, tripping, my vision rippling behind a wall of unspent tears. I fall into a strange room, glass sides, a door. I stumble through and I'm outside, standing on the expanse of deck. Flowers jingle and some fake waterfall giggles. I tumble onto the brick path, I don't want to get up, so I just curl into ball. I whimper a bit but eventually I start to even out my breath. I'm just in time to watch the sunset. It swirls through the sky and rays bounce from the shinning capitol buildings. A soft, almost neon magenta reflects on the underside of the clouds as the sky fades through all the shades of every color. Orange and deep purple streaks fill the horizon beside the bright white ball that is the sun. It slowly sinks, minute after minute the clouds change darker, the colors fade and before I know it, the stars are winking into the sky. But not many, I wait for the little lights that should haze out the blackness, but the capitol lamps and parties block the twinkling stars. If I were at home, I would see the Milky Way floating over the ocean. The moon would light up the cresting waves as they curl onto the white beaches. The dock would glisten beneath it and I would see my constellation. My little constellation, the one that is so infinitely small and close. Five little sparkles in the blackness of the night. I choke back a sob, _Home_. I know I'm weak.

I can't imagine other tributes whining like babies, there's nothing I can do, and this definitely won't help me survive the games. I think of all the tributes that did win. I never saw a hint of weakness, maybe vulnerability, but they never curl up into a ball and cry as they watch their district partners head get sawed off, or their closest ally slowly mutilated under an enemies knife. Only weaklings whimper in the games, sometimes the cameras zoom in on mental breakdowns, those tributes never get gifts after that. Even on the brink of the darkness of death, you have to be brave, the world is watching your end. I sit in the dark until I'm chilled inside and out. I pace around the deck of flowers and chimes before leaving into the light of the glass door. The noise shuts out as soon as the door clicks closed. It's not hard to make my way to my room, even with my eyelids half closed and having no memory of my path here. I silently brush my teeth and comb my hair. I really don't feel like taking a shower so I just wash my face and climb into some warm pajamas. I tuck the covers up to my cheeks and softly drift off to sleep.

_Oh snap_. I worry as Jaylyn pulls me from my room. I forgot about the interviews, they take place tomorrow while today I train for them. A knot of foreboding forms in my stomach as Jaylyn seats me in a chair across from her. Their soft leather covered fluff does nothing to relax me. We both order lemonades as she looks at me deep in thought.

"What" I ask giggling from all my nerves and how funny she looks squashed in the chair holding the lemonade and staring at me like some critic bug. She snorts. "You know, I had so many angles planned out for you but now that we're here none of them seem to work." She laughs and shakes her head. "You have any ideas?" I blink at the unexpected question. "Uhh..." I mutter half to myself. I really can't think of anything that would work half decently. We sit in silence before Jaylyn pipes in. "Let's just start from the top." She lists possibilities and I say what I think about them. "Funny?" "definitely not!" I exclaim. "Charming?" I murmur something that could mean anything. Killer, Witty, secretive, powerful, the list goes on. Then we start a fake interview with her giving questions and me answering. I try to answer well like if this where real but I end up looking like some forgettable wan-a-be. Jaylyn suppresses a smile at my feeble attempts. "I know I know." I sigh. "I don't think anyone would notice me if my face exploded during the interviews." "Well...Then we'd have worse things to worry about." She smiles. "Well if you try to stand out a bit, make your answers memorable, that could work." She starts. "Don't mention your family as much as you can and don't say anything about the other tributes unless you have to, and if it comes to that then make it seem like their under your notice." "but they're not." I comment flatly. "That's not the point." She replies sitting back into the chair.

Just then there's hard rapping on the door and the frilly woman bursts in. She nods almost politely to Jaylyn -who looks like she still wants to instruct me- , takes me by the wrist and stalks out the door. I sigh inwardly; I'll have to spend the next four hours walking around in high heels with... With ... _Her. _She hands me a pair of high heels that look three times as high as they are long. Their bright pink just like hers. I notice that I don't know her name, but by the way she glares down at me makes me lose any friendliness that I may have accidentally created for her.

After what feels much longer that the hour it is, I'm starting to admit she's a good teacher, very harsh, but gets the job done. I can't feel the soles of my feet anymore so I massage them madly when I first get the chance. She doesn't wait for me to finish before continuing. I end up stumbling waving and hopping simultaneously.

I'm pretty good with waving after that, and same goes with smiling. She doesn't loosen her scowl, but seeing as there's no steam coming out of her ears, I think I'm doing ok. Even so, the whole ordeal is torture. When I'm finally allowed down for dinner, I'm starved, my arm feels like it's falling off, and my face is twitching from all this smiling and what not. I only brighten at the fact that Thales has had to go through the same.

**Yes the training sesion was kind of odd, I was actually going to make the gamemakers think she left and then have the other tributes come in... but that would just be weird and complicated.**


	9. our secrets

**This would be the interviews of the tributes.**

I feel crumpled, squished, like a piece of garbage in a very full can. I guess that's what I am. A piece of garbage, entertaining garbage, garbage that dances with death before being tossed in the overflowing bin. Overflowing with so many lives, so many bodies, and so many stories.

Today the creator of this horrible show has decided that garbage looks better in fancy wrappers, with fancy words written along the live edges. The problem is, I don't know what words are written on mine.

Jaylyn thinks it's good that I'm a pretty blank slab; anything I say will work in the interviews. But I know that's not the point, what really matters is if it will work in the games. Tonight decides if the audience will cheer for my end, or desperately try to keep me alive. Of course, that is for the sake of their badly placed money, not for my badly placed life.

The crowd is surveying the twenty-four tributes.

Hah, they better look quick because soon we'll all be dead.

Their eyes scan, their voices whoop and their hands clap. I stare back at them, too nervous to move, I don't know what my body would do if I even just turned to look at the other tributes.

Claudio did a great job with my styling; he's continued on with a similar theme to the one I wore in the chariots. My hair is done in a million of these weird little braids. The first few near my face are pulled to the back of my head, and each dribbles a strange, slightly luminescent water over me. It ripples slowly across the faded majestic blue dress that seems to flow on its own. The dress is intertwined with braids like the ones in my hair, but of shimmering blue fabric that twists across my bare back. The dribbles splash across the floor, fading lighter and darker. It makes me look like I'm standing in water again, and so will my competitors after my interview.

Opal takes the stage in her noble and sparkling costume. Veils twist from a princess-like cap and swirl around the velvety dress that is inlaid with diamonds. Her answers are not typical like you would think; she portrays herself as intelligent and cunning.

Dazzle looks stunning in a way I can't describe. He's fancy garbage. He answers cheekily and I bet half the audience is busy composing their love letters to him throughout all of the district two and three interviews.

Not that they were bad or anything. Like, the other half of the audience is following suit after shimmer appears. Then I bet that the brutish sponsors are signing forms like mad for Quake.

Caleb -the district three boy- tries to look menacing in his hyped future costume, but although he convinces the capitol, he doesn't convince the careers.

Suddenly I'm on stage. The shining water tumbles off behind me as I walk as calmly as I can towards Cesar Flickerman. He's been alive since forever as far as I know. This year his hair is flashing through aquamarine shades like fire flashes through the sunset.

He starts of easy with what's your favorite food and such. When I tell him about the seaweed fish concoction, he laughs and says something witty to the crowd. I don't remember any of the first minute or so, but soon I get accustomed to the staring, eager capitol faces that watch me like puppies. So far I've gone nowhere exiting with my answers; I don't think it would be smart to kill off all the sponsors with my ultimate boringness. Well, it would be very amusing. Somehow the conversation veers off towards me not being trained and what not, finally the question pops up. What do I think about this, myself, careers.

My mind panics, but it feels like some small portion of me has slowly started to come to life. I feel words forming on the tip of my tongue, I just hope they work."How I see it is, we all know what they can do." I gesture to the tributes from one, two and my own district partner. "They throw knives wield spears and disembody with swords." Cesar seams slightly taken back by my change in subtleness. "Everyone else." I sweep my hand towards the other tributes and lastly myself before continuing. "Have our secrets." Cesar leans in towards me, but even as he speaks softly his voice projects over the crowd. "Would you care to share one with our _friends_ over here?" He nods his head towards the crowd which is now leaning in and talking in hushed voices.

Now this is where I display my personality. Secretive? Friendly? Hopeful? Forgettable? I don't know what it is that answers through my mouth, but the coy smile that crosses my lips feels right. I don't know if it's from the adrenalin, the water trickling down my back, or some inner conscience, but here, one of the last evenings of my life, I let it take over. "I think our _friends-"_I direct my words past Cesar and to the crowd. "-can wait till I get back." I whisper into the microphone just before the buzzer goes off.

What? What did I just say? _You just told the whole country that you're coming back from the games._ Says the weird part of me that I have found during the interview. I try to swat it away from my thoughts, I am not going to win, might as well get used to it._ Who said so?_ Interrupts the voice. _My killers say so._ I reply to myself angrily.

As the interviews progress, I finally manage to push out the voice and concentrate on the tributes. Well, concentrate would be the wrong word, "Stare blindly at" might work a bit better. So in my daze of nerves and wonder I don't remember a second of what happens for the next hours till dark. But my dreams are clear as daylight should be.

**YAY. Hope you liked it, and just to tell anyone reading, I have alot of other chapters ready, as in I'm alredy finished a fair bit into the games. And because I'm a mean person, I won't post them unless you review. =( **

**Because if you don't review, how am I supposed to know that anybody cares if I post.**

**Sorry if I just made some people depressed. That's kindof the point. :D**

**And for those who have the same problem I had with not being able to review... Just keep reading and be HAPPY!**


	10. Deaths door

**Don't worry, this is not yet another dream. =D**

Sometimes, I love the soft lull of dreams. They take me to a land that I could never reach alone. Dreams are a great friend of mine, even when they leave me gasping through the covers and shivering till dawn. They are adventures beyond our imagination.

But now, I find these dreams are not only terrifying, but very frustrating. I think being slowly killed off in some capitol designed landscape where you can't take a breath without taking in death is enough "excitement" for me.

But I know my mind never listens to my pleas.

Neither does the capitol.

Nor my killers.

My night dream slowly fades, drawing back into that little space in my mind that is reserved for things forgotten. As soon as it leaves, I wish it could have stayed. A new memory has surfaced.

Today I am going into the arena.

* * *

Claudio unfolds the package that contains the clothes I will wear for my death. He looks so calm in his wrinkle free capitol tux. But me? I'm shaking uncontrollably. It's better that before, I have gotten closer to accepting my fate than I did this morning. But I know that just above me is the arena, and it could hold anything from snow capped mountains, to soul singing deserts. I am hoping for water, so my eyes are trained on the wrapped bundle, hoping to get a clue of what will be my home.

Claudio lifts up the soft blue blouse first. It's a soft thin slightly transparent one that buttons at the front. Then there's a tight undershirt that's really not an undershirt at all. It's a bathing suit. I can't help but laugh and pull it from Claudio's steady fingers. As I hug it to my body, it makes me feel safe.

This is meant for water.

I am meant for water.

I pull on the contents of the bundle which only consist of the swimming top, the blouse and swimming shorts. I'm surprised that they didn't provide shoes, but I'm actually happier that way. Shoes make me feel off balance and walking bare foot is always quieter. The only problem is if I get injured on the soles of my feet, I'll have trouble walking.

I hug Claudio until the announcer commands the tributes to step onto their plates. We wave to each other until I've risen out of sight.

**Oh ho ho, ARENA TIME! ^-^**

**Thanx for the reviews!**

**Doesn't mean you should stop. =)**


	11. Jokes

Above me, is the sky. It's my first clue as to where I am. But I can't decipher the grey blue clouds and the purple tint.

Then there's the rock. A solid kind that makes up the ground. At the last second I shove the robin nervously into my pant pocket. I just button it before The horizon stretches out in front of me.

Now I can see everything. stone. Stretching out to the edge of a beautifully twisted forest that is only about ten meters behind me. The cornucopia stands in the center of the tributes. Twenty four killers that will be freed into their spree at the sound of the one minute gong. They move before that, and their dead. Land mines are hidden in the rock around me.

Cornucopia, ring of rock, ring of tributes, ring of forest. Where's the water? I panic internally; I can't show the cameras what I feel. So I reassure myself that it will be found past the intriguing trees.

One minute is almost up so I frantically inspect my options. Dazzle is on one side of me, Shimmer is on the other, both positioned to sprint towards the cornucopia. It seems to be filled with classic career supplies. Tents food and many classic weapons. Swords spears knives and bows. Everything else is scattered all the way to the edge of the forest. Maybe they made it easy this year so non careers could have a chance?

I decide to grab whatever behind me and maybe buy time for a couple other things knowing both tributes around me are heading to the blood bath. Then I will run.

The gong sounds and for a split second I'm frozen. Fog descends over the arena and suddenly I can just barely see the tributes dashing to the cornucopia. Now I run. Grab everything around me and into the forest I go. But I only have two things, and it seems wrong to not get more. I think of what Jaylyn told me before I was left to the catacombs. _Sometimes, when everything seems easy, you should worry. With Quarter quells there's always something hidden beneath the surface._ I know what she means. In the second quarter quell, only food from the cornucopia was edible. So I set my mind on finding a tree to keep watch on the blood bath. Then I may be able to get some leftovers when the careers leave.

I can't watch most of the killing. I can't see their faces but I can see the blood. It's amazing how almost half the tributes ran to their deaths. There's one fast kid that must have gotten their first, a career is chasing him or her with a sword. They both disappear into the woods. There's a few others that got there quick. But not quick enough. I have to look away as they are disembodied at the hands of the careers.

Even through all of that, the most disturbing of all, is the eight year old. He has joined in the fight and killed without the slightest thought. Worse yet, he tries to team up with the careers. My eyes are glued on the exchange. After a few words that I can't hear, the career sends the tip of her spear through the boy stomach. I can barely see through the fog, but it looks like he's pleading with her. She walks away from his dying body. I can't tell if the blood around him is his or just remnants from another killing. Crimson streams pool in the cracks of rock and flow towards the forest. This place will be stained red.

I wish I could turn away, but then I could be caught off guard. So I'm forced to watch until only a few figures are left. The canons blast. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. I feel faint, nine dead, and 'm not one of them. I expected more, but it feels like too much already. The group moves and a hovercraft takes the bodies away. Now I must pay close attention if I'm to get anything out of this. But the careers just divide up the spoils and wait. They don't even bother to collect the bounty of strange items that line the rocky outcrop. So I wait too, and for the first time remember the two things in my hands. One is a strange rope, tied along it are thin wicked knives. The other is a small sack. I really want to check what's in side, but now is not the time, because time, is something I'm running out of.

A career stands and points at the forest, near me but not at me. I hold my breath, they're standing up, arguing, and pointing. Some point in different directions and a few begin to move towards the trees.

Suddenly it hits me that some may already be scouting the forest around me, but I can count five figures moving from the cornucopia. That would account for district one, two, and my district partner Thales. Usually both tributes from district four would be there, but sad, hopeless me is not a career.

I scramble silently from the tree. Unless somebody was near me, I would not be heard. And all the careers are gathered on the stone right?

Wrong.

Quake crashes through the trees. I involuntarily scream, quickly chocking it back. I forgot he had chased the kid into the forest. This means Ostrix must have joined the careers. Snap, I should have remembered.

I run full speed away from the cornucopia. Lucky me he has to catch me to kill me with that sword of his. Wait. Lucky me?

What a joke.

He runs as fast as me, not saying I'm fast or he's slow. We match step for step, but while I'm frantic, after a moment he starts to take his time.

Maybe he's decided I'm worthless, maybe he's heard someone else? But he still jogs steadily in my direction with a sickly smile plastered across his face, like if he was laughing at some inside joke.

But as I burst from the trees, the joke is out. I'm standing at the edge of a tumbling cliff.

**YESH IS A CLIFF HANGER! litteraly.**

**I like this chapter just because it's so much more amazing to finnaly get into the masacur instead of discribing a train ride. Chuga chuga chuga chuga CHOO CHOO!**

**(I just lost the game.)**


	12. black arches

**This takes place directly after the last chapter when she sees the cliff.**

Time never listens. We humans are so worthless, our lives formed in the morning dew, and swept away by the evening rain. And time, the great element that watches over, takes over. Time is never on my side. It would solve my problems; I would have time to slow down before watching the ground slip away beneath me. I catch on the edge, my fingers grappling at the stone and sliding over the loose pebbles. I drop the knifed rope form my hand and let it fall into the mist bellow, but even with both hands, I'm still slipping, forget about pulling myself up.

Footsteps, Quake runs to the cliff. Oh how I wish I could say goodbye. The cameras will be on me now, The audience will hold their breaths and laugh at my last moments. Quake raises the sword, I don't know what would be better, having my fingers taken or falling to the earth myself. I can't imagine the pain of my reunion with the ground.

Deep below me I hear the splash. The splash? The rope, it has reached the end of the fog, and also reached water. Water. Water! WATER!

MY fingers let go and I push away from the rock, turning my body into a dive towards the mist. I hear the clang as Quakes sword clashes into the rock, but it's muted from the swirling air. The hanging droplets seem to part, everything around me is clear, and for a moment all I can see is a wall of soft nothingness. I don't have time to wonder what would happen if I was wrong, if all that waited bellow me was the same bone shattering rock.

but I'm right, and wrong in a way. Stones, Boulders, water. The clear spray froths between the hope breaking rocks, smooth from the relentless pounding.

If I die here, I'll me mashed into an unrecognizable lump of food. Mind food, that's what I am to the capitol. Food for their power hungry souls.

If they even have souls.

I crash into the waves; I can feel the stone at my side as bubbles spurt around me. My worries are taken away with the surface. My eyes open and I can see the bottom far below me. It's also a hard rock with boulders stretching towards the surface, stretching towards their prey. There, hooked on one of the lethal crags, is my only weapon.

I start to rise to the surface so I can refill on air, but I notice that the thrashing above would only take me away from what may be my salvation. So I turn and shoot towards the knife rope. With a few strokes I'm there, my ears are popping from the depth and my lungs are screaming at me. I franticly unhook the rope, but it's not that simple. I yank on it with what little might I have left, but it only makes the hold tighter.

Determination sets in. My mind becomes foggy from lack of air, but I still pull myself down and begin to untie whatever knots have formed and kept it in place.

It feels like forever before I tug it free. I look to the surface through half open eyes. I don't think this was worth it after all. I struggle to move my feet as a dark blanket begins to tuck in my thoughts. _Swim_. I command myself.

The surface is drawing nearer, I feel my grip on the item loosening. My grip on life loosening. With it But suddenly I can breathe. I gasp for the air, it tastes so good. I gulp down a wave and end up coughing, desperately trying pull the dark blanket from my thoughts. I scramble onto a large smooth boulder and flop down onto its solidness, the same solidness that I dreaded only a few minutes ago.

Lying there, my mind slowly slips away.

I'm up as soon as I notice I was down. The careers can see me here, for all I know their newly equipped arrows are pointed at my skull at this moment.

I glance up, just in case. But all I see is the vines over the cliffs and a layer of smoky mist. I notice that Quake had no idea what was down here, he probably thinks I'm dead. Even if had heard the splash as I entered the water –which I doubt because after living your life jumping in to waves, you don't make a splash- he doesn't look capable enough to put two and two together and notice what is at the bottom of the crevice.

I sit back down on the smooth rock and ponder what to do next. My instincts tell me to high tail it up the other side of the cliff and into whatever lays beyond. It's true that I could, that side is much less steep and covered in scraggily trees and foliage. I don't recognize the plants from here, but I dismiss the thought from my mind.

There must be some other way to cross the gorge other than falling into it; otherwise I bet almost all the tributes would be dead by now. I wonder if I missed any canons, I decide to pay close attention to the death recap tonight. Dead kids. It sends shivers up my already soaked spine.

I find myself hoping that the ten year olds are still alive; it makes me sad to think that their lives could be dispensed so easily.

I'm still wondering how anyone got across the gorge, so I decide to investigate by the shore. I know that if anyone was in the water, they would be swept downstream. So I travel up, I don't want to be near anybody. Now, they are all my enemies.

As the day progresses, the mist thins. I notice the dark stone bridges that naturally swoop across the river canyon. They loom above me menacingly, anybody could be up there. This is how tributes can cross. I periodically finger my robin, I'm constantly marveling at how the pocket button held against the rapids.

A cannon echoes, I start terribly at the sudden noise. I wonder who the hovercraft is coming for.

After a while I notice that the stream seams to curve slowly around the area of the cornucopia, but it's only when I see another gorge merging to this one that I notice the entire cornucopia is bordered by canyons. I stop before the two rivers become one. The strength of the rapids is making me uneasy. In fact, now that I think of it, the rocks seem to be more eroded and spaced apart in the water. I smell waterfall. A distant rumble tumble noise that bounces between the cliffs. I look up at the strangely beautiful sun. The sky seems to be cast in an eternal sunset. Not to intense, just oranges and pinks that stream across the blue that is already blooming with bright violets. It is only about two pm.

I start climbing the cliff about half way between two bridges, but my twisting path to scramble up has led me right back over one. Here I can see strange forest stretching upwards and odd rock formations dribbled over the arena.

The panicky feeling in the pit of my stomach keeps telling me to get away from the careers, but otherwise I'm strangely calm. I've already spent most of my worries and emotions. My feet begin to take me away from the center island formation that holds the cornucopia, but my mind thinks better of it. There is a tall overhanging stone that juts over the bridge. Here I can keep track of anyone leaving or coming near me and still have the advantage of being higher up. The thought makes me scared out of my wits, but what is fear against survival? And if it turns out everything around me is poisonous… well there _is _a cliff right beside me. If all hope is lost might as well use that to my advantage.

Wait.. _is _everything poisonous. Come to think of it these brightly colored berries look highly unfamiliar. I inspect a broad, deep green leaved bush. Strange pink berries hang from the tips of each leaf by a wiggly string of goo. I want to poke it, but then I think better of it. I don't recognize these, even from the edible plants station. In fact I've never seen anything like the forest that surrounds the arena. A tingle of emotions bubble up inside me. Nothing will be easy this year.

I scale the ledge with little problems. I sit between the few rocks that spike from the little amount of space around me.

I inspect the rope, running it through my fingers. It feels familiar.

"_I run my fingers along the net, taking in the knotted texture. I glance up at Jaylyn questioningly and she starts to give an explanation._

"_You'll have to make this in the arena." " _

A smile crawls across my lips as I begin working. I loosen the five thin knives, they're not meant for being thrown, but then again it's not like the ones at home where either. I begin to sort a few of them into the pocket that doesn't contain the bird whistle, but I quickly reverse my actions. I've learned to never put sharp things in my pockets the hard way.

So instead I slide the knives to the side, resolving to find a vine to tie them around my waist. I don't want to weaken the rope by taking strands from it, I know it will have to be strong to do any damage against a trained career, or anyone for that matter.

I also realize that I need two equal weights to tie on either end.

I take one knife in my hand and hide the rest of them under a small cleft with the rope. After shoving dirt and scraps naturally over my items, I set off towards the ground. After a few leaps from the mass of stone I'm standing by the bridge. I look at the ever changing sky before scampering into the woods. Night will come in a few hours.

**trust me, the chapters get better.**

**I've got some pretty evil stuff planned for Ember. :)**


	13. A walk

I make sure to remember my path to the rocky cliff. In the end I'll probably just end up listening to the rumble of the water fall and head in that relative direction.

I've found lots of vines but nothing substantial, so as I continue searching for weights, I make a woven rope from the thin strands I have collected. My progress is slowed because of the fact that I need to test each plant on my arm before handling it. I don't want to end up with some sort of skin poison for the rest of my life.

Oh my short sweet life.

This wander through trees keeps me constantly on guard. I'm fine without shoes; I've learned to avoid things that even my eyes don't notice. I can imagine how troublesome it must be for some tributes, thorns snake across the forest floor and by the strange liquid that dribbles from them, I'm betting their filled with toxins.

I'm actually really glad that I didn't just find some big easy vine; the rope making gives my sanity something to take cover in. Without it I would be dashing across the jungle at the slightest provocation.

Not that that would be wrong, it is true the smallest noise could be my last. The shudder of leaves, an arrow to the heart. The pad of feet, a pack of wolves gnawing at your remains. Gnawing. Yes, I feel hungry. Very, very hungry.

Suddenly the berries around me seem so inviting. But I guess I'll just have to last a little longer until I can find something to eat. But what would that be? I begin testing berries on the inside of my wrist and leaving the juices to sit. If they don't itch, I swallow a bit on my tongue. If it stings, I rub any traces of the plant from my body.

I come across a few ponds that may be useful when I trek farther from the river gorge. Sadly the water looks infested with some sort of larvae. I can see millions of the little black shapes darting to and fro. Seeing the water I begin to notice the dryness on my tongue. I can't help but paw at my taste buds in frustrated attempts to appease them.

It's at one of the small ponds that I decide to set the snare. I have many meters of the vine rope since I've been working at it for almost an hour as I walk. I fiddle with it and combine some of my skills and some of what the trainer taught me. Eventually I come up with something satisfying.

It's very simple in the way that if anything walks past it should be caught by the legs. I'm still hoping that the rest of the contraption will work and leave my prey dangling. It makes me sick thinking about finding an animal dangling with its eyes still open and glaring.

A gangly tree catches my eye. I've seen many of them but I haven't gotten close to one until now. From my position on the edge of the water, I can see the dark round husky fruits that hang from beneath the leaves.

Coconuts?

I've had them a few times but these look larger and the husks are darker. I lick my lips. If I can eat them, they'll be delicious!

I scale the tree just like I would a mast. The vines act as slick ropes that sway in the wind. I pound a few of the larger ones out of the tree and realize that even if I can't eat them, they are perfect to attach to either side of the thick rope. I set the two nicest ones aside and crack a small one open over a protruding rock. The husk takes a few minutes to pick off and finally I have the bare nut, a thin liquid trailing out of the crack I created. It's all I can do not to lap it up right then and there. Instead, I dribble a few droplets onto my skin and wait. But I even when I stop thinking about the coconut, I end up staring at the darkening sky and cursing the capitol in my head. The unfairness of it all is so absurdly horrifying, even this enchanting sunset that streaks like blazing fire is for their sake not the tributes. The falling sun reminds me that I should get back to the canyon. It seems friendlier there even though it's so very close to the site of the bloodbath. To where the careers wait. Or hunt, it makes me wonder where they are now. All the more reason to get going. It crosses my mind that maybe I'll catch a person in that snare of mine. I start to hope it will be someone trained, one less fearless opponent to murder you in the night.

I gather up the coconuts and climb a little ways up a rocky hill. They are all over the arena, I have past many. The molten smooth rise just clears some of the tree tops. I stay down because there is almost nothing to conceal me. After a few scans of the landscape to get my bearings. I just barely spot the gorge through the mist. I make my way down, which is always harder than the way up. Especially when your arms are full of heavy spheres. After checking that my wrist doesn't itch from the milky liquid, I dribble a few drops into my mouth. Most of it ends up sliding down my chin because it's very hard to lift one coconut up and keep the rest balanced in the crooks of your elbows. I resolve to wait till I get back to my temporary camp by the bridge to drink the rest, it's very tempting but I'm guessing that just because the plant doesn't itch, doesn't mean you won't die from it. I don't remember who thought me how to test plants. There were more steps but it would take hours, which sadly, I do not have.

The way back to my hideout, takes very little time. I guess I was zigzagging; well I still am so that I can collect some of the berries that seem safe because of my previous tests. A few blotches of color dot my arm, that is a few blotches of color from the _safe_ berries. The only mark from the rest of them are shiny red rashes or even strange bubbles that are swelling up in small amounts. I'm glad that I used no more than one berry each plant, otherwise I'd be a screaming writhing pile of a mess.

Once I reach The ledge beside the bridge, I climb up, staying out of view from anyone who may be watching. After sorting through the berries to make sure they are all the right ones, I indulge in the coconut. I'm not warry at all. Once the milk is gone I strip some of the husk from another and wrap it in the stuff to muffle the cracks as I use my surroundings to crack it further. Once that's done I'm glad to find that the walls of the nut are edged with a hard white substance. I try a few flakes just in case before picking the inside clean.

I'm sad to find that I've used all the vine that I had in my snare, so I make do with Some of the berry stems. I don't have much but after it's relatively woven together, I can tie the knives to it and have it hanging around my waist. I look over the meager pile of berries wondering what to do with them. I start to feel sad about the loss of the sack I found near the cornucopia this morning.

This morning.

Wow. It was only this morning that I was waiting for the games. Only a few days ago that I rode the splashing waves of the ocean and had no fear larger than getting into an argument with my friends.

It all feels like a different life now.

I distantly fill the empty coconut shells with the plants and strap the halves together as best as I can using only leftover vines and fibers from the husk. Then I tuck all of it beneath the small ledge and curl up between the rocks. The moon is rising, obscured by a soft wispy layer of fog that stretches over the hills and rivers. The birds are quieting and soon only a single bird caws. The sound echoes over the silence. A strange cricket like bug chirps softly down in the forest.

Suddenly, the anthem bursts into the night. I hear the flutter of wings as the noise starts an animal. It startles me to, I'm up crouching before the second word has been uttered; grappling at the knives around my waist. Even though it is night I can see clearly in the light of the oversized moon.

The anthem ends and the death recap begins. Caleb and his district partner appear first. The memory of his death makes me all hollow and depressed on the inside. It also means that both tributes from one and two have survived. The next to appear is the young boy tribute from five. I sigh, I don't know if it's better that he's dead now, or if he had died later. Then there are both tributes from six. One from seven and one from eight, both from nine, one from ten and the girl from twelve. I'm glad that I didn't really get to know most of them; otherwise my hopes would be crumbling even lower. Really, ten lives taken on the first day? That leaves all the careers plus eight others not including me. That is if you don't count Ostrix as a career. Even so, he's teamed up with them and it's only a matter of time that the girl from eleven will accept their invites. I wonder if Rowin's doing ok.

I slide the carved bird from my pocket I don't dare blow into it, instead I just stroke the wings and let my mind relax. I fall asleep with the bird cupped softly between my fingers.

**yup yup boring much, I just had to get this out of the way to set the scene for something else. :D**

**Review anyway, just don't rant about the unexitingnes, I already berated myself for that.**


	14. prey

**Short but sweet, or maybe sour... your pick =)**

I wake with the sun. My muscles protest as I squat in a crouched position. I should weave a mat or something to sleep on. Hmm, vines. A memory pushes at my mind barrier until I finally remember the snare. I kind of doubt anything will be in it, but I might as well check and gather some things on the way.

I string some of the berries around the thick string and tie that around my waist so it hangs with the knives. I remember my robin just as I'm about to climb down. It's lying on the stone where I slept. I snatch it up into my pocket before anything can take it away. I don't want to lose it.

I climb past a few small boulders to get to the slope down.

That's when I see the mist.

It carpets the forest in such thick layers that when I drop down I can't see my own feet. It's a bit thinner at eye level, but seeing farther than a few meters ahead is blurry and weird. I note the direction I'll have to go to get back as I stalk through the jungle.

It's not long before I feel I'm getting close.

It's funny how the mist muffles everything; I'm less than ten meters away when I hear the first sounds of struggle. I approach cautiously until I can see the shape in the snare. It's big, and I can't tell what it is, so I let the knife fly before approaching it. I don't want to see it die.

My breath catches in my throat when I hear the yelp. Quiet, muffled, but clearly human.

I remember hoping I'd catch a career. Well now, as I reach them, I should be happy.

But there's a good reason I'm not, actually, I'm horrified. Because I haven't just caught a career. I've caught Thales Flannery, male district four tribute and the very tribute that should be going back after the games are done. I have just fatally wounded my district partner.

**oh ho ho!**

**Review review review or you'll also end up hanging from a tree half dead =D**

**hope you liked it!**


	15. Tributes in the mist

I'm stuck in limbo. I don't know what to do. I look at my district partner in shock. Somehow I excepted to see that same sneer that I'd received more than I like, or even a grimace of pain and furry from the two inch knife imbedded in his chest. But the look I get is completely different.

Thales is scared of me.

He's no longer struggling in the trap. I don't know how he caught his hands in it, but even so he's dangling two feet above the ground. A million thoughts cross my mind.

Save him, if he gets back to district four everyone's families will receive prize money. Whereas my survival will never last.

Part of me whispers that this is all good, one less career.

As I fight inside my mind, my eyes are still locked on his. All I see is fear, fear and suddenly just mist. His canon fires.

I collapse to the ground. My district will hate me, my family will hate me, my sponsors will hate me, Jaylyn will hate me, the careers will hate me… Am I doomed to be hated?

I've only crouched there for a few seconds when my ears detect a faint rustle. My heart skips a beat. In this fog I won't see whatever it is until it's upon me. My mind is convinced that the slightest movement is a tribute in the woods. Just like Thales.

More thumping, running. Not loud but it's in that base tone that my ears hear especially well. Quiet cracks thwacks twangs. Whoever this is, is hysterical but in control. I rise to my feat in a last attempt to get away when a figure leaps out of the jungle and just barely misses the pond. I don't even form a scream, my legs start to move but my eyes stay glued on the foggy figure. All the tributes are dressed the same, but suddenly there's no mistaking Rowin.

I can't read the mixture of emotions on his face until he almost nocks into Thales who the hovercraft hasn't picked up yet. He doesn't stop running as he gaps at me. Suddenly he's pushing me into the jungle and hissing in my ear,

"Run!"

I immediately turn to my original hide out and he follows without hesitation. Only then do I notice the second set of footsteps barreling through the undergrowth. A wicked laugh escapes our pursuer as I near the cliff.

Ostrix is nearing us. I know running is pointless because now we'd have to cross the bridge which would leave us in the careers hands at the cornucopia. So there's only one thing left to do.

I run onto the bridge confidently but I guess Rowin doesn't know what's at the bottom of the ravine. He thinks I'm heading the career camp. It takes Ostrix bursting from the tree line –white hair glinting from the shine of a flashy sword - to get him to follow me.

And without a moment's hesitation I stubbornly shove Rowin off the bridge. I quickly follow into the waves.

He's smart enough not to scream and I guess Rowin's heard the rapids because after a moment of shear surprise he turns into a make shift dive towards the water. Actually, he hears it much sooner than I do, I'm surprised.

This time I'm not too scared of hitting rocks, here closer to the waterfall there are much less. But the current is much stronger. It seems that Rowin and I have just formed an alliance out of unspoken agreement.

The water feels refreshing after the run, so cool and wonderful. I open my eyes again, and let out all of my breath in a sharp outburst. Just a few meters below me swim a pair of sharks. Twirling in the depths like a death dance. I've had my fare share of shark encounters and I know that they only attack humans if there is fresh blood… but here in the arena, sharks aren't sharks.

They are weapons.

I cut through the waves and flop down on a conveniently large stone that protrudes from the water. Rowin is already there, back to the porous rock, staring up at the mist with water streaming around him.

Thales staring face flutters before me for the briefest second.

"So did you know what was down here or are you just as surprised as I am that neither of us is dead?" Rowin asks smiling without taking his eyes off of the sky.

"Let's just say I found out there was a river her by _accident._" I reply trying to mirror that care free smile.

He lets out a half laugh half gasp for breath. It's true that even I who grew up in water am panting after the escape.

"We should get going." We both state almost simultaneously, then we share a synchronized laugh.

I laugh but my mind cries. I have killed.

"Yah the sharks…" I continue absently.

"Sharks?" Rowin lifts his head up in surprise. "I just thought the careers would be here soon."

I grin. "Then we should really get moving shouldn't we?"

"Yup." He springs into a crouch and we both rise to our feet. The rock is les then twenty feet from shore, but I'm still worried about the deadly rows of teeth that could swallow a human whole. I slide into the water uneasily, and Rowin follows. Neither of us makes a noise in the lapping waves. The water isn't like white rapids; it's just the strong underwater current.

I fall behind as I focus my vision under the water. There's no sign of the sharks. Also no sign of the ground. It makes me weary; there are probably deep gyres that circle the water up and down. Just the same it could take a human to the unseen bottom.

I lift my eyes above the surface and I start at how far I am down river. I quickly start up swimming; I'm relieved to reach the shore.

Here the land drops off in a vertical cliff to the deep, strings of minerals intertwining the precipice like a web. I start up the rock towards Rowin, who is waiting anxiously beside a relatively camouflaging bush.

He flashes me a smile as I near and begins steadily climb up the scraggly slope. I follow just behind, not needing to avoid any pebbles that usually fall from an inexperienced climber wake. I make a note to ask him where he learned to scale things; I know I learned with our slippery masts. Most of the time you had to avoid loosening dead wood, if you did the whole rotten thing could collapse.

My memories make me smile; somehow the expression feels frozen on my face as we reach the top of the slope. The smooth rocks are dotted with jungle. I recognize a few plants that I tested yesterday. I pick at a few as we walk hurriedly into the forest. It's like an unspoken agreement not to talk, even if the slowly thinning mist disguises us from on-looking eyes, it does little to conceal our voices. It also goes without saying that I can't gather my meager supply of food from my hideout. We need to get away from the imminent danger of our possible pursuers. Ostrix doesn't look stupid, if Quake mentioned "killing" me on the first day, they would have noticed I hadn't died after watching the death recaps. I'm pretty sure He'll peace it together. Jumping of bridge does not equal splat.

Rowin has taken the lead, silent as a fox, auburn hair still slick and wet from the water. I'm getting annoyed with mine because it's so golden and shiny that it offers no camouflage. I don't like the thought but I decide to stain it with berries or mud when I get the chance. Rowin leads a ways off from the cliff but heads in the relative direction of the falls. I step in beside him.

"Why this way?" I whisper without stopping.

"They don't go there much." He answers, I'm surprised that there's no playful tone in reply anymore. He's deep in thought.

I leave the conversation at that, by "they" I think he means the careers.

The rush of the falls drowns out the soft breeze as we near. I'm eager to see the waterfall, I love them.

I'm not disappointed when we step out from the trees. I'm delighted; there are not one, but three waterfalls. Each tumbling and splashing in a uniquely mystifying fashion. Beyond them, is stretching water, I can't see much because the jungle on the islands that divide the falls are blocking the view. The fog has receded and now only covers the water in its thick blanket, Swirling as the sparkling falls dive into its midst. They lure me; dare me to fall into their waters. I wish I could, but these are the hunger games. And in this game, a crack of a twig could mean your death. So when I hear the branch snap, the beauty of the water slips out of my mind. We are not alone.

**Pretty random stuff much. I had some fun with this chapter, hope you did to!**

**See ze green button? It is in needing of clicking, clickedy click click. **


	16. Inocent life

I whirl to face the noise, Rowin has a very crude sling-shot already aimed at the forest. I don't see him pull it back, put I do here the thump. A low moan accompanies it. I scramble towards the noise, half tripping over the substantial amount of roots and vines. The moan was a guttural animal noise, not human. But my mind is still fresh with this morning, still fresh with death.

I reach the striped brown hide quickly. It is an animal, easily still alive, just a bit winded and very shocked. It's kneeled sort of on the ground and it makes me think of a small version of the wild dear that flit across district four, except it has a twisted mound of antlers protruding from its head and the scraggly, striped fur is long and thick. It doesn't seem suited to the moist climate of the arena. I stroke along the soft check, its eyes are wild and lips pulled back. Rowin pulls me back. "Remember, we're in the hunger games." He murmurs, then leaves over the animal and pulls out a fairly stubby knife from his pocket. Before I can move the deer creature is dead. I let out a whimper and crouch down beside it. Rowin looks straight into my eyes. "You know I had to do that." He asks in a soft voice.

_Why?_ My mind retaliates. But I can't say it because I know food is something you can't live without. Just I hate death, especially when the thing that dies is completely innocent.

* * *

As we wait for the skinned deer to roast over the fire Rowin risked now that the fog has surprisingly returned for the evening, we discuss where to shelter for the night and I half mindedly weave a few vine ropes. I realize that if we found a quick way to get from land, to the islands that intercept the falls, we would have a perfect camp that few would dare try to get to. Rowin comments that there's a reason no one would try to cross the thin pounding falls, but I insist to at least check the area. "why not." he agrees while adjusting the deer creature.

"What supplies do you have?" I ask Rowin, he must have some unless the knife is the only thing he could get. "I have these." I say as I begin to empty my pockets. Rowin puts his hand on mine as a signal to stop. "We'll get going soon, but we can't drop our guards yet." He smiles, I grin back as I gather up my items.

"Anyway, do you have any plans for the rope?" he asks gesturing at the one looped around my waist. "yup." I answer playfully. "I'll tell you later." I smile.

Once the deer is cooked, we both rip off strips to chew on. And when Rowin insists on carrying the large raccoon sized animal, I don't get angry because it doesn't look like he's doing it because I'm the girl here. We know each other as equals.

The track to the edge of the falls is short. Here the eighty foot, splash spewing torrent seems much more menacing. The first intercepting land formation is only about ten meters away from the shore. But between here and there, a strong flowing current runs just over a meter deep.

A meter deep?

That's when I get the idea.

**False alarm much. =)**

**Tell me what you think.**

**Or join the dark side, and trust me they do _not_ have cookies. _I_ have cookies. Yum yum.**


	17. Crossing

**Sorry I didn't post this chapter sooner, I was just REALLY buisy with homework and such. Even today I was out of the house for over an hour. Sadly tomorrow I'm also really buisy but other than that I should have chapters posted more often. =D**

**keep watching for new posts everyone!**

I run along the shore to where Rowin paces at the edge of the water. I toss him one end of the coiled vine rope and tie the other around myself. "Attach it to something solid near the shore!" I yell back to him, I'm almost at the edge of the large expanse of ocean like water. Before I can change my mind, I quicken my steps and lounge as far as I can in the opposite direction of the current. I'm swimming as soon as I hit the water, because even from here I'm slowly being dragged to the abyss of mist. Even with the small distance, I use all of my strength making sure I don't get caught in the main pull of water between the two shores. And even _with_ all of my strength, I can already feel the stony bottom with my toes, if I stopped now; I'd be off the edge in no more than a second. So with my last scrap of energy I pull myself over the slick rocks, and onto the soggy, splashed ground.

I stand huffing and leaning on my knees, trying to catch my breath. I hear Rowin's voice over the rushing, pounding of the falls. "Don't some fish swim up waterfalls for life?" He asks.

I hold up my finger to signify "one second" and when I do lift my head Rowin is grinning beside the anchored vine.

"So now I'm fish?" I call back.

"Just like I'm corn." He smiles.

"But I hate strong currents!" I yell over the splooshing.

" And I would die picking corn all d-" His last letters are stolen by a particularly loud cascade of water.

I untie the vine from around me and hook it securely around a tree, struggling to keep the water from tugging the rope away. I give it a good pull to make sure it's strong. It is, I already know it, I was always praised for making incredible ropes and knots.

I nod to Rowin, who seems to have caught on with the plan.

"If I die, it's your fault!" He yells playfully as he steps into the water. He hooks the arm holding the roasted animal around the vine and swims forward with the other. The line stretches taught, but it holds strong. Soon Rowin's climbing out of the water, droplets cascading onto the rocks. He fingers the rope burn in the crook of his elbow and smiles, emerald eyes sparkling.

"It works." He states.

I giggle. "Well yah, if it didn't you wouldn't be here to tell me."

"Ah, when the fog clears we should check out the bottom of the falls." He suggests while sitting down on a mossy rock. It occurs to me that all the things in this arena that look just like it –old and weathered- could have been made in the course of a few years especially for our deaths.

"Smart." I answer. "If anything happens I'd like to have the falls as a possible escape route."

He chuckles; we both know we must sound crazy. Talking of jumping off cliffs and swimming on the brink of death. Hmmm, what a nice name. This chasm could be named death, and then the saying could be quite literal.

I ring out my hair and hang the lightly transparent blouse over a softly swaying tree branch. I loop it through the holes, over and under the buttons. I turn to find Rowin emptying his pockets onto the rocky ground. He glances up at me, "You wanted to see what I found?" he gestures at the softly scattered belongings.

There's one other knife, this one reminds me of a saw and I'm surprised as to how it fit in his pocket. There's a thin coil of string, and a packet formed from rough beige material. I pick it up and slip my fingers under the buttoned flap. It's about the size of my hand and folded over itself and the small amount of items inside.

"Iodine pills, a little flash light, a needle and a simple first aid kit." Rowin lists the contents of the packet.

I slip the items into my palm and place the first aid kit on the rocks. The pills are contained in a small capsule about the length of my forefinger, the flash light is even smaller and I resist the temptation to try it out. We don't want the batteries dying incase its needed. I'm guessing the needle is in the first aid kit so that's what I look through next. It's a small water tight baggy with a sturdy metal zipper that could fit in my palm. I rummage through it and find a casing of needles and thread, a roll of gauze that fills up much of the space, and a small bottle that is filled with sodium chloride -to disinfect wounds- is also squeezed in there.

"Nice." I comment to Rowin. "This stuff could come in handy."

"eh." He shrugs and shakes his head. "You should see what the careers have." But I know I don't need to see. I can easily visualize the mountain that the careers get in most of the games.

We sit conjuring up fantasy riches in our minds, imagining the various contraptions excites me. It seems unfair somehow that while some starve to death in the arena, others can sleep in tents and eat their fill of food. And yes, I am hungry. I eye the deer creature that is dripping, upside-down from a branch. Rowin must have hung it to dry.

"We should ration it carefully." He says. "who knows how much food there is in this arena."

I know he's right so I turn away from it, pushing the hunger out of my mind as much as I can. It makes me smile seeing Rowin almost contradicting his sure words as he stares and the creature, licking his lips.

I pad over to the torrent of water that flows past the rocks, and then I reach down and cup the liquid in my hands and slurp it down. I know the water's not poisonous as I swallowed much on the way here.

"We should make a shelter or explore the island or something." I state over my shoulder.

"And string vines all the way past the last waterfall." Rowin ads.

"So I'll make vine ropes and you check out the area. Wait, I'll make vines and come with you simultaneously so I can access vines. And I don't want to miss out on the fun." I conclude as I step back to the tree-line.

"As long as you let me do _something_ I'm fine with that." He agrees smiling.

So as soon as our belongings are safely stored in our pockets we set out in the sparse forest. Well it's not really a forest; the entire pocket of land is only about forty meters long and thirty spanning between the waterfalls. We cover it in a short time, and the entire look seems vaguely familiar. A drowning memory beneath a layer of thought.

The same odd colored vines scatter their way in the swooping branches, but here the ground is soft with lush dirt, moss and smooth boulders. Moss creeping over everything in a drawling timeless way. BY the time we've covered every inch of the island, I have what looks to be enough vines for the task ahead. I already have enough rope made to cross the next and biggest water fall. Rowin seems happy with a clearing of stones beside a small rocky edge that rises just past my head. Rowin, being just taller than me and the same age -14- can see over it on tipi-toes. There forest starts just at the edge, there the trees are thick, making a camp there, on higher ground much more difficult. So we make do with the shelter of the screening boulders.

The sun begins to swamp the sky with deep violets as I finish the ropes. Rowin's really anxious to get the other ropes up because without them we're trapped. The good thing is that unless you knew they were there, spotting the vine beneath the surface of the rushing water would not be an easy task.

Soon we're slinking through the trees to the center waterfall. Rowin insists on swimming to the other side like I did previously. He says it's only fair and after some hesitation, I let him go. But I make it clear that I'm traversing the last waterfall.

He takes a large arc around the currents by swimming far out in the open before doubling back to the other shore. I'm a bit nervous, but as he climbs out of the water resembling wet dog, he flashes me a grin through the misty spray. This torrent of water is very large I can see, with all the work to avoid being thrown over the edge, it has taken him what feels like twenty minutes of sheer anxious terror to cross the twenty-five meter stretch.

Once both ends of the rope are secure, I cross along the vine. I really have to say, it's much harder to do then it looks. Even in the shallow water, if you try to stand, you're immediately swept off of your feet. That's how I almost lost hold of rope, I just barely caught hold of the slippery thing with my fingers. By the time I was across I flopped down onto the stone and lay there untill most of the adrenalin subsided in my system. Yes being all hiped up is "thrilling" but I don't understand why some people risk life just to feel the rush. I don't get to rest long, because the sun is almost down and there's one more waterfall to go. We finish it in a similar fashion to the first except much faster. The distance is really short, you could almost jump acroos if you where really good.

It's very dark by the time we get back to the first section of land. It's strange how today the fog hasn't cleared and I'm wondering how anyone will see the death recaps. Hey start just as I'm curling up beside the cliff wall. We're both actually too tired to bother eating some of the deer thing. I just barely keep my eyes open for the anthem. But it's all wrong, I can't see the seal of the capitol and the four faces that appear are just hazy blurs in the sky. Tonight, I will not know who died.

**Not too good of a chapter, I was in a hurry, sorry for any spelling mistakes.**

**Anything to say? Just review!**


	18. White sky's

**SO sorry it took me this long to write this chapter. Actually, I'm dead sick and have barely been able to finish it. Hoping to get the next chapter up faster.**

My eyes closed easily, but true sleep still feels far away. In the hazy space of sub consciousness, my thoughts run wild. I am glad that only memories of today flash through my mind. Well, sleep would be better than the things that swim before my eyes, it's always a wonder how unconsciousness comes when you least expect it.

The morning sun rises to fast. I rise with it, awake in the soft dapple of shadowed leaves. I lay curled in a tight ball, my head resting on the moss. Rowin stirs near me, and soon we've both taken in the mossy trees, and rocks around us. Today the mist is only a very thin carpet over the ground. I wonder again why the game makers hid the death recap behind a wall of fog. I can't stand not knowing how many are left in this prison.

The day goes by calmly after a small breakfast of deer leg. I weave a mattress of vegetation and start on a simple canopy of sticks. I'm limited in sturdiness and size because we don't want our camp to be obvious if anyone stumbled across it. Rowin mutters something about a bow before leaving to check out the bottom of the falls. I'm a bit annoyed because I'd really like to join in the expedition, but I still need to gather edible plants and organize the area. While I weave ropes and vines, I continue testing the plants. I try to avoid the ones I know are poisonous and I double check the others. Soon I have an idea of what is edible. What is edible?

Very little.

I've gathered two handfuls of berries and a bit more leaves. I test them in my mouth and find they are quite repulsive. Like eating grass. So I push them between two boulders and set off to search for coconuts. I don't remember seeing one yesterday, but then again I was more intent on making a rope then on looking at trees.

Eventually I find what I'm looking for on a small strip of beach on the shore opposite the waterfalls. I end up with three coconuts as the rest refuse to fall from the particularly large tree. I decide to check on them In a day or two to see if they have ripened enough to tumble at my persistent shaking and clawing. Truly, I'm surprised they've held up under my attacks. I finally leave after balancing four meters in the air between the smooth trunk and the slick one of another tree only a few feet off. I wipe my bare footprints from the soft moist sand with a large circular leaf and head back to the camp.

Rowin is sitting there fiddling with a straight branch and his knife. The top of the branch has been awkwardly skinned of bark and half decapitated from the deep gouges.

I let the coconuts roll from my arms and laugh. "What are you _doing?_"

"Eh" He replies concentrating on the stick like if his own piercing gaze would cause the branch to skin itself in terror. "Need a bow…" He mumbles unintelligibly.

"Since when do you make bows?" I ask smiling.

"Since now." He says in such an annoyed but intent way that it's funny.

I don't need to ask what he would do with it, but I am curious as to when he learned how to shoot one.

"Here, I do it." I say innocently reaching out to the hunk of wood.

"Since when do _you_ make bows?" He asks in a silly imitation of my own question.

"Since now." I answer grinning.

He looks down at the disemboweled branch and as if as an afterthought he comments. "I'll go get some other wood."

"I'm coming." I add.

So we set off into the trees.

Before long I've found a nice tree with springy wood. I've almost never seen a bow so I try to compose the weapon in my mind instead of trying to remember what I already know. Anyway, the ones at the training center where worked from a strange metal and strung in impossible ways.

Back at our camp, I start working with the wood while Rowin stays back to hunt.

Soon I've carved a rough but straight and even wooden rod. I wander back to the beach and fill a dent in the rock near it with water from the stretching expanse. At the same time I eagerly sip at the delicious fluid.

I submerge the wooden stick in the pool of water and leave it there to soften up as I travel back to the camp. Again I come to find Rowin busily skinning some sort of animal. The dirt is red and moist with blood. I look away, I still haven't gotten used to death. And it reminds me of my own kill…

The animal is grey with a long hairless tail. The fur is very soft looking over the small rabbit sized body.

"Nice catch." I say looking down at my hands. It really isn't fair to make Rowin feel bad for bringing back food.

He glances up and gives me a sympathetic glance before continuing.

"So how was it at the bottom of the falls?" I ask remembering.

"Oh yah, the waterfalls land in clear deep looking water, but if anyone tried jumping from the islands…They'd probably get impaled before reaching the boulders.

"sounds nasty." I say cringing from the thought.

"So I guess if we ever need to, being sucked of the edge of the falls would probably not result in our canons going off."

"M-hm." Rowin nods.

I look up at the sky; it is noon. So in my boredom I weave a water tight basket and then return to the beach to get the wooden bow.

Just as I reach the puddle of water, I remember that I'd need a bow string to keep the wood from bending back straight. I haven't seen anything that could be useful on the waterfall dividers, so I return to camp with only the water filled basket.

I set it down with the berries, and sit cross legged on the dirt. Rowin is lying back towards a rock with his eyes shut and fingers wrapped around the hilt of one of the daggers. He opens one eye as I come near.

"Nothing exiting I presume." He says.

"Nope." I reply. "But I will need a bow string." I continue.

"Might as well head of now, I wanted to explore the rest of the arena anyway." He answers while turning into a crouch.

"Sure." I comment. "I just need to hide the bow." I don't want anyone taking it, firstly they would easily be able to finish it, and I don't want my work to be wasted.

"I'll pack all the stuff." He calls over just as I'm disappearing into the trees.

I jog to the shore and bury the water hole with the bow, in fern like plants. I want the wood to stay pliable so I leave it in the water.

I sprinkle the area with some dirt, give the coconut tree a mighty but unsuccessful shake, and return to our little clearing. Rowin's got some of the berries packed in the little sack and he's holding his latest catch in his free hand. I gather up my ropes and the watertight basket before we set off.

The waterfall is surprisingly un-misted. The strong, Clementine rays of the sun flash off of the rippled surface, giving the water a striped look. It's like a tiger, dangerous, deadly, and unnecessarily adorable.

Rowin locates the anchoring point of the crossing rope. I couldn't find it if my life depended on it, the thing is, my life does. I cross first while Rowin paws at his tongue in the water .

"What was that?" I laugh when we meet on the other side.

"Berries." He answers frowning. "You said you tested them right?" He continues.

"Of course I tested them." I reply confused. "why?"

"You're sure?" He repeats.

"Well unless I picked the wrong ones which I highly doubt. I can describe how each of them should look off by heart and I checked them over twice." I explain.

"Ok…" Rowin ventures. "Then describe them and I'll tell you which ones they where, I didn't bring them."

So I begin describing the list of about ten different plants, Rowin stops me on the sixth. Deep purple leaves with soft, flesh pink berries that cluster in the niches between the stems. I tell Rowin we should check them all again just in case, but he says we won't have the time.

As we continue into the under growth, clouds of mist settle from the sky. The tree tops are dotted with shimmery fluff. The sky sets into a bright magenta and we both begin to get anxious. We pass the time with quite chatter.

It turns out, Rowin's been tracking the careers since the gong first went off. He describes how they spread out and hunt for tributes during the day, and return to the cornucopia when night falls. Rowin had been following Ostrix to discover what exactly careers did on their daily hunts besides kill people. I'm not surprised how Rowin managed to keep Ostrix in his sight without being heard; even now he's as quite as a fox.

I explain my travels and then we walk in silence.

Nothing. It all seems wrong, wrong width, wrong strength. Nothing works.

I'm guessing if we took a straight path southward, it would only take about an hour to return to the falls. But when I suggest it, Rowin shakes his head.

"Won't make it back today." He claims, then he points to the sky. But it is not the sky. The sun, our only marker of direction is obscured by fog.

**Now what happens? A night spent in unknown terrirory is a night spent with death.**

**Review. Review! REVIEW! And I will feel encouraged not to take so long to write the next chapter.**


	19. Another past

**=D I'm depressed how far the story got moved I hope you like it!**

**3...2...1...ACTION  
**

I stand staring at the foggy sky. It's as if the sun where everywhere at once, the mist is a solid sheet of unblinking light. Swirling in an array of baby violets and indigos. It's beautiful really, but it doesn't register in my mind. What I see is an ominous suffocating cloud that crushes my thoughts. It's amazing how not too long ago; the arena seemed so much less harmful. I always thought of the tributes as the most dangerous piece of the games, the arena only an added effect used to bring them together. For the first time, I realize it's the opposite way around. If it weren't for the hostile conditions of the arena, kids wouldn't kill.

"Why?" I whimper. After setting up the perfect home and growing use to its relative comfort, we are pushed into unknown territory. Here, we are at a disadvantage. I don't expect an answer.

"Keep a look out for somewhere to spend the night." Rowin comments.

"It's getting dark." I mumble and kick a loose rock.

But before long we've come across another stony formation, except we find a rough cavern carved out of the base. Just in time too, we'll barely have enough time to disguise it and settle down before the mist descends. It makes me shiver, the way the hovering blanket has been lowering towards the ground. I'm guessing we won't see the death recaps again. I really wish the game makers would stop messing with the tributes. Like really, we're messed up enough. No need to deprive us of more than our homes, families, friends, belongings, hopes, sanity, happiness and even our lives.

"Guess we can keep searching tomorrow." I say with as much enthusiasm as I can drag out of my lost hopes. Truthfully, I don't think we'll find any form of string that would work. I'm starting to realize how valuable a bow would be.

"It's not worth it." Rowin sighs. Right now he looks like a kindergartner who's suddenly been informed that school _isn't_ canceled tomorrow.

I look down at the sturdy rope that I found the first day. I realize that I highly underestimated my own rope making capabilities and the strength of the vines in the forest. I could make a rope almost as strong as this in very little time.

"So what _was_ that for again?" Rowin asks half heatedly.

"We'll need two coconuts." I reply back without further explanation. It feels like the life hass drained out of me and all I want to do is get our stuff ready and sleep.

I begin arranging our belongings in the tight cave while Rowin boils some water from a nearby pond in a dent of rock surrounded by burning sticks, before leaving to collects sticks for camouflage. I finish quickly and then tend the small fire and wait for the water. The cave is jutting slightly from the stone. Like you could stand on top of it. The openings top catches my eye. There's a strange hole that looks thick enough to fit both my thumbs. On further inspection find that it's natural, and nothing strange either. There are many similar indents in the rocks.

I whip around as Rowin pounces from the forest. An image of our first meeting in the arena flashes through my mind. But this time he's smiling and holding something gingerly in his hands.

It's a silver parachute.

I dash over to him in frenzy. "What is it?!" I demand.

An even wider grin explodes across his face. "What we've been looking for all day!" He laughs unraveling the bundle.

I gape and grin at the long snow white string that lays unfurled between his fingers and I can't help wondering why we didn't get this earlier

"I almost missed it." Rowin chuckles while refolding it into the silky smooth silver of the parachute.

I laugh. Maybe they did send one earlier.

Rowin keeps it in his pocket as we set up our temporary camp. I'm feeling half starved so we both chew on some of the rest of the deer animal and check some of the berries. I'm surprised to find many of the berries I where sure where safe and even ate, are bringing boils bubbling up on my skin. I can't help but wonder if there poison level changes daily. I mention it to Rowin as we nibble on a few and he agrees that we should sort them into "poisonous" and "safe" piles to check on tomorrow.

As we extinguish the fire and try to arrange sticks by the cave entrance, I can't help from getting all bubbly and exited.

"We have sponsors!" I say in disbelief. Somehow it's the first time I've thought about the capitol in a while. It also brings on the horrible realization that every moment of my life is being broadcast to the entire world as I know it. That shuts me up and I start to wonder if I should try being all awesome and ninja to show the sponsors they picked right. But instead I end up fussing with the sticks at the cave, struggling to make the camouflage look satisfying.

I turn my attention to the strange hole, it's not very visible as the mist is quickly darkening. Turning the sky above into a lazy twang of dark red. It's a very scary color that reminds me that I'm surrounding by death.

"If we could get something to fit snugly in that," I finger the indentation. " we could drape plants over it and then cover the rock in some dirt, as in, it would fail during the day, but right now…" I get a little spark of hope because the low going burrow could look like a patch of dirt in the growing darkness.

Rowin nods. "we'll just have to get out of here before the sun is up." He adds.

I scramble through the scattered twigs but I'm distressed to find not a single one fits. I search by the edge of the forest, but soon Rowin calls me back.

"Is this good?" He asks gesturing to the hook in the rock. I squint at it because I can't decipher the awkward looking material. I reach my hand out to it but Rowin's laugh stops me.

"well don't touch it!" He grins.

"why?" I ask flinching my hand away from it. I'm thinking it could be poisonous.

Rowin's still chuckling. "It's a knife."

"A knife?!" I repeat laughing.

"Yes. A knife." He confirms.

" Well It'll work I guess." I smile, hanging some nearby plants and stems hastily over it. The result blends fairly well with rock after we've splayed some random things around the burrow. Just in time because the anthem is starting. I turn to the sky and am confronted by the oppressive swirling cloud of mist. It looks really eerie, all dark but still visible.

Tonight we can't even count the faces. But I start to tick off the deaths I know of.

Three unknown ones yesterday. One…known… death yesterday. And then ten the first day… There are only eight tributes left in the arena. At first I'm happy realizing the fact that I might stand a chance with sponsors and Rowin as a friend and an ally… But then I realize, only one of us can return. I bite my lip because I'm trying to figure out who I want going back. I have to admit there's that instinctive voice that screams "ME ME!" but I know that's not going to happen. Everyone left in the arena probably stands a bigger chance than I do. If one of us is going home, it's going to be home, it's going to be him. But I don't mention my inner argument I just comment. "Eight or less of us left."

"They'll be interviewing your family." Rowin answers while sharply ducking into the small cave entrance.

I quickly follow. "What do you mean _my_ family? You've got one t-" I cut off because he might not necessarily have one too. I feel really guilty when he doesn't answer.

"I'm so sorry." I whisper. I couldn't imagine losing anyone I knew. He's very still. The tights space forces us to curl up side by side. I curl up even tighter and hug my knees against my chest. I feel really bad and guilt is something I deal horribly with. I often cringe at my mistakes years after they've happened. So now, I lay awake. I don't want to say sorry again because sorry doesn't count for anything, plus he might be trying to sleep.

But he's not. After long minutes of echoing silence, he whispers words into the air. "I didn't know them much." He starts.

"oh." I mumble into the quiet. "What happened?"

"Hmm. Wish I knew." He answers sadly."

I shift to face him, but it's no use. I can't see my own nose if I cross my eyes it's so dark.

"as in…" he continues. "Some farmers say they disappeared, I wouldn't know. I barely remember them- my parents."

"Do you have any uncles? Aunts? Anyone?" I ask bewildered.

"They weren't from district eleven. They where new." He replies quite calmly for what he's saying. Nobody changes districts. There's no one outside of the districts. I really don't know what to say. There's more silence for a while until I mumble something really stupid just so that the conversation doesn't die out. I truly am curious.

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"No." Is the only reply I get. But at least that's one thing I can relate to.

In the vacuum of noiselessness, sleep comes easy. But not for long. We're woken by moaning. Scratches and that haunting terrible noise. The worst part, it's at the edge of the cave, only a hands length away.

**Ok this is NOT a false alarm.** **I'll get the next chapter posted as soon as a bit of suspense builds up. =)**


	20. Two for two

**This chapter is odd at times, so read carefully. ****There are a few references to the previous chapter ****so try and think back. Over all, I'm really happy that I finally get to start writing unboring stuff.**

It is early dawn. A warm red glow tints the looming figure in the entrance. I've pressed myself into the wall as much as the stone will allow, trying to stop my every nerve from leaping out of place. The scene in front of me passes by slowly, but all too fast in a way. The tributes stark white hair is only half shadowed, the rest illuminated with the deep shades of orange. He sounds horribly hurt. The way he's moaning and pleading. Yes, Rowin's crouching near him. Knife ready and all senses alert. My own hearing seems to be picking up pure gibberish, so I watch. The boy pleads, and suddenly I realize that this whole thing is impossible. Ostrix is with the careers. He wants us dead.

My ears react with a sudden flow of input. My body springs in to action. I stop just in front of him as Ostrix continues what he must have been saying.

"I could" He breathes raggedly "tell you" He pauses again. "Everything." He exhales before letting out a skin crawling moan.

I turn questioningly to Rowin because I've found myself in the middle of what seems to be a hopelessly tangled dream. He turns to me with a look of bewilderment, and at the same moment there's a soft thud as Ostrix falls limp to the rock. I turn see how his body has collapsed into the shadow. Oozing red has replaced the glow of the sun on his hair. I can't tell what happens next. I find myself by the wall again. Rowin has turned to the entrance, knives in both hands and searching the outside. Someone else is out there. I now see the wooden handle protruding from Ostrix's skull. I don't notice the cannon sound but suddenly I hear a shuffle above me. I gasp and search the area beneath the low roof. But of course, nothing is there. It is on top, in utter control of us. Anyone exits the cave, their dead.

A laugh resonates in the dark quiet outside. "Just another silly little tribute." Someone chants. And a face appears from the entrance roof. Dark hair swings down with it and I catch the glint of a knife held in her hand. Another cannon. I'm frantic, what's going on?

I don't know if I'm fine, I'm too confused. I turn and see my ally, staring shocked, unmoving and I'm very worried. But he's not the one with the knife in their throat. It's the girl. His own district partner hangs grinning from the cave mouth. A thick trail of blood curving around her features and running down her arm. It's sickly path twisting around her death smile. I collapse onto my hands. What _is _this? Some sick joke?

Rowin is on his knees too. But he's circling the girl. A look of aw splayed across his face, because we are alive out of sheer luck. Not because some secret friend has come to the rescue. Not because a pack of rabid birds has conveniently decided to attack. But because in the darks of the evening, we could not find a branch the same size as both my thumbs. We are alive, simply because.

But as it always is, for one life to live, another must die. Two for two. And now I watch her form creak in the soft breeze, sway like a broken plank of wood; stray from the structures frame. And at my feat, thick red crimson swims. A loose strand of snow white hair contrasting with the dark scarlet.

"Ember!" Rowin hisses. I start.

"come on!" he continues. I can't see him outside of the cave, but he sounds very anxious. I realize there we might not be the only ones left alive here. But going through the entrance seems impossible. Pushing past two bloodied bodies to get out. I meagerly crawl past Ostrix's downturned face. But bile rises in y throat when I turn the district eleven girl. She's still smiling, but the grin has become limp and lopsided, her eyes faded, not unlike yesterdays mist. I'm glad that at least today the air looks fresh. Bright and alive, shimmery greens waving in the zephyrs of the sky.

A breeze makes her sway again, and so I hold all my breath, and barrel past her. Whipping at my skin as if some of the death could have stuck. My wind pipe aches, as I realize it's the same thing I do when running through a spider web. But here is these tributes, whose families think they could have made it back, and they will make it back. In their coffins.

Rowin is crouching apprehensively on the roof of the cave, fingering the hilt of one dagger. I'm not surprised he didn't take the belongings of the dead tributes. The knives would be useful, but you don't take from the dead, no matter what they did in life.

We make our way back to the waterfalls. Each little noise startles me, and as the sun wavers into the sky, there are too many of these noises for my liking. The birds sing to life and the patter of feet fills the jungle. Rowin is surprisingly calm, distant and depressive, but not so jumpy, and definitely not shivering the way I am. We reach the first waterfall and Rowin crosses. I sit by the sparkling water in a trance. Letting my toes splash on the surface. My mind is blank, like the way it is when you're really sick and all you can do is nothing. Rowin is calling from the other shore, so I start across the vines. But the water tugs at me and I'm still not thinking. The vine is slick and so is my grip. And suddenly I'm showered in rainy spray. A strange gravity less feeling fills me as the ground slips away.

But suddenly I'm happy. The first rays of the white morning sun cast rainbows in my eyes. The droplets form a still ice palace around me, Twirling and merging like a thousand lost dancers cast in the spray. Sixty feet passes too quick and soon with a burst of bubbles I'm diving through the water's surface. My wrists are stinging terrible from the impact, but I can't help feeling a surge hysterical giggles coming on.

Rowin bobs out of the water not too far away and he's laughing too. You can only watch so many people die before your sanity dies with them. Now we're both truly alone. No district partners, one of the last in the arena. And somehow my confused mind only picks that up as a good thing. Because even now I know I can't survive these games, so I might as well have some fun dying in them.

We end up jumping of the falls again. Just because. And my arms feel raw, but Rowin has got it much worse. Even so we pass the day in distant laughter and silent intervals where we sit and stare at the sky, thinking of nothing and everything at the same time. I have begun to feel at home in the arena. Here are the falls, here the camp which we set up again with the items we brought in our pockets, there the shore where Rowin dropped of the things he was carrying before plunging after me into the spray. I don't know what he was thinking doing that, come to think of it; I don't even know what I was thinking. But diving from the falls becomes a joyful past time that we indulge in once the original skin wounds from each dive heal. Now my past life seems so far away, like one of the strange dreams I encounter each night. Each night in this new world of mine, this world of ours.

**Insanity is fun. Well, not truly insane just messed up. Tell me how you like it!**

**And it is very discouraging when non one reviews even if your comment sucks pickles that's OK. It's very fun to read them.**

**And thank you to all the people who have reviewed! keep up the awesomeness! =D**

**P.S. And if this chapter seems really random and your like WHAT IS GOING ON HERE, it will all be explained later on.  
**


	21. A perfect memory

**So sorry I took so long to upload this, been really busy and also working on a picture of Rowin and Ember soon to be found at** **.com/ hope you like it!  
**

The next few days pass uneventfully. Still no faces are visible in the sky, and the arena shows no sign of changing. We are probably being hunted by careers, and it's a surprise we haven't been found, the waterfall being a major landmark. But the deadly looking torrents of water seem uncross able, and therefore easily forgettable in the mind of a tribute. Food is exiting, water average, tributes a danger, sleep peaceful. Survival is all that exists for most, but we try to enjoy all that I have left. Rowin and I take cautious swims in the dark stretching water that looks to have no end. And sometimes, when the dawn is breaking and the vines are stirring with twittering chirping life, I play simple songs on the sleek carved robin. I store it in my pocket, always by my side.

I've taken to painting it with the many berries that speckle the jungle, taking care not touch the painted part with my mouth when I whistle through it, we have confirmed that the berries do change daily. So we keep to the animals that Rowin catches with the newly created bow and test the plants before mixing small amounts with the meal.

And so, each night when the mist thickens into a cloudy stew, Rowin and I start a candle-like fire and recount stories. We rarely talk of home, but when we do, it's about my adventures at high sea, or about Rowin's time scaling between the staggered trees by the corn fields. We both know how much we miss home. The salty breeze of the ocean, or the dry sun and crisp shadows of the field trees. But it also feels like a lost dream, where each morning you wake, trying to grapple the memory from slipping deep into the murkiness of you mind.

It must be the fifth day in the arena when we trek in the jungle on the other side of the gorge. It's almost the same as the other, except beside a quaint little pond, where six trees grow tall and straight. Their slim branches spread wide and bunch with prickly but harmless needles. And it is these trees that we scale in the full blast of the sun, shadowed by the thick greenery. The tops are shrouded in fog, and when we sit in the swaying bows the ground is a rolling sea of blue white. This must be how snow looks, I heard of it once. Soft crystalline clouds that coat the world in shimmery frosting. But I'm told it's cold. Like the cold of going to deep in the water but sharper. I can only imagine.

I'm proud to be this high off the ground. It's been to long since I last swung at the tips of the swaying mast. Peering into the white crested waves. Rowin climbs just as well, if not better. Lithe as a spider monkey twirling through the needles. I can tell that we both admire each other's skills, watching like birdwatchers sighting an albatross for the first time. We have only each other, and only for a while. Life is luck, and luck is never predictable. So we both understand the possibility that we'll wake together and see our partner in the sky that night. But that seems unlikely, not the dying part, just that the death recaps seem to be hiding. Even though we live in the present, I still can't help wonder what the capitol has in mind for us, it's true that nothing in the arena -including the mist- is created by accident.

I've found the time to collect a few coconuts and attach them as weights to the sturdy rope. I haven't had any use for it yet, but I keep it close most of the time. Never slacking my guard. Even now, when tributes are few and far between. But the one's left are deadly, most are careers no doubt. And no matter how much we wonder about them, me and Rowin wouldn't dare travel to the cornucopia, their original –and probably current- camp. The raised, cliff island would be easily patrolled. Just like the two chunks of land that split the waterfall into three. Finding our way onto them looks like one of the best decisions in the games so far. But then again, a tributes greatest advantage is often their greatest weakness. And no matter how much I live with the wind, trying not to worry about what is past, or what is to come, I can't ignore the voice inside me that predicts doom. There are times when I look into the sky, and wonder who will survive these games. When I wonder who is left. And often when I hope and dread the idea that Rowin and I are the only ones left to battle it out. But each time that the rise of excitement and terror finds my thoughts, I tell myself that there would have been a sign. The last two tributes would know there are no others. So when those thoughts take care of themselves, more fantasmical ones replace them, and I wonder what would happen if the last tributes all died at once, or if they decided to live in the arena forever. But then I know the capitol wouldn't allow it, just like they didn't allow the rebellion 100 years ago. And just as an added effect, they blew up a whole district and left it in smoldering toxins.

It's sitting in the tall green trees that we notice a small thing that would ultimately lead to catastrophe. Although the disaster was always bound to happen. There as we sway in the whispery winds accompanied by the soft rustling swish of the leaf needles in the air, the mist slowly receding below us, two figures entwined deeply in the clutches of ultimate death. Rowin pricks up, staring intensely into the jungle below.

No prints can be seen in the soft earth, a surprising sight in this land of rock. No trails of the living creatures that should abound. And for the first time, we both realize the quiet. Not as if it were ever loud, and still with the brushing wind and distant lapping of waves and the constant roar of the water which was exactly why we never noticed the missing ingredient before.

Life is silent, except for a call of a shadowing hawk that soars tensely in the sky. It's sharp, hungry eyes have detected the same problem as ours.

Where is the food?

And we both startle, our reactions so predictable to the other, we leap from branch to branch and finally land softly on the rough earth. We reach our camp in good time, refreshed and hurting from crossing the river falls. Rowin slings the bow onto his back on does the same with the quiver I created for the arrows. He smiles a goodbye before silently disappearing into the undergrowth. I can imagine that crossing the falls with a bow that you struggle not to get wet would be quite difficult.

So I sit cross legged on the rocky earth, letting water drip from my body and pool softly on the ground. I drag out the stash of random berries we found and begin to test them. We still have an awkward rabbit animal Rowin caught, but it would be smart to ration it if our concerns are correct. And so they are, Rowin returns a while later with nothing but a missing arrow.

"Here, these are good." I say pushing a division of the berries towards him. I know that dwelling on the lack of meat won't be smart. So I'm surprised when he starts up about it.

"I found a career." He says blankly, picking at a string of bright blue berries. "Shimmer I think."

I raise my eyes from the white trio of leaves in my hands. "She was alone?" I ask, because she didn't seem like the kind of girl to go walking around in the _dangerous wild_ without an escort.

Rowin nods.

"And?" I continue.

He shrugs awkwardly while tucking the bow in the niche that I first used for berries. So I rise to my feet, and wrap my arms around him in comfort. Again, knowing each other, I can guess that Shimmer is dead. Now do I remember the muted noise of the canon that barely made its way over the pound of cascading water.

We find our way to the cliff that juts over the drop to the canyon where the water from the falls spills down and runs in a wide river. Here we wait, hand in hand, licking the splendid juice of the coconuts and nibbling on some of the roasted rabbit animal, for the sun to set. And as the painting of pinks and oranges drapes itself across the vastness of the sky, we become two silhouettes. Our eyes, green and blue, glittering from the sparkle of the falls. A perfect memory of stirring feelings in the coming darks of night.

**Awwww, I'm really starting to feel sad about what's going to happen. D=Anyway, I needed this chapter to be written for what happens later to work. And yes that probably is the closest thing I'm going to get to romance since I'm thirteen and have zero experience with that stuff so no use trying to make them fall deeply in love or anything. Makes me sad since Rowin was the inspiring character for the whole story** **and, well... you'll see.**


	22. Stupid nuts

**Is morning now.**

The first light is just a misty streak on the horizon, but soon the powerful shades that vary through most of the rainbow are flashing past the dark navy that occupies the sky. There are fluffy clouds, white fluffy clouds that look like whipped cream with a soft orange glinting of the bottoms. We lay awake, backs to the rough ground we've become so used to. Only softened by a layer of shiny green leaves. Rowin and I watch the sky as the day infects the night. A soft breeze tugging at our minds. Both deep in thought, listening to the spraying water and the swoosh of the canopy that parts overhead.

But soon it is light, and a commotion of problems arise within our thoughts. And sadly, another day has begun something we realize brings us closer to death, our ultimate parting. And as we discuss the chores of today, we cup our hands in each others, not ready for life's countdown to end.

I comment that I'll stay at camp, to test berries and make more arrows. They may be needed if there are any other tributes with lack of sufficient food. I wonder if anyone would go cannibal, but even if that wasn't the case, the tributes will be willing to get the games over with.

But as I'm saying it, Rowins looking deep into my eyes and offers to stay at camp this time. He says he has something to do. The truth is, I'd much rather be gathering berries and food in the trees, than having to stay in this home of ours. So I readily agree after seeing he's quite determined to let me have what I want.

I gather up the vine basket I created, before waving goodbye and returning Rowin's joyful smile. I swoop into the undergrowth and look back as I jog away. Even before the camp is out of sight, his auburn hair and hazel green eyes have camouflaged into the jungle. I am now alone, but not quite alone, because I know I have a friend that I can come back to. And I remember the day, only about a week ago, that we first met. The handshake to be friends, or allies, and maybe now family in a way or another. My emotions stir again and I vow to be back before long.

I collect varying berries, leaves and nuts as I traverse the two islands. I'm at the edge of the second, scrambling in the low, swaying branches of a half dead tree -that holds some sort of nut- when I hear the cannon. So crisp and clear in the unmisted morning, even over the constant drowning of the falls. I panic for a moment before assuring myself that Rowin is alright. Truly, he should be more worried about me, I could be anywhere. So I climb higher into the tree to reach into the fallen canopy for the small brown nuts that don't even seem worth collecting.

But I almost fall out when I hear the second boom that resonates through the arena. I could swear that it's echoing off of the walls and most probably fake sky. So now, I can't control my panic and I struggle to free myself from the grasping tendril branches of the tree. With so little tributes left, two is many. But as I rush across the island, I can't help but realize the small amount of berries cupped in my hands. How silly it would be to come bursting into camp with no food. I convince myself that if someone had known of our camp, they would have come already. So I take a few deep breaths to calm down, and there after take my time in gathering. I use the basket to carry the berries across, and leave to try my luck again with the coconut tree. I got down a few previously, but there's still one left that refuses to be eaten.

And as I pad across the stone, nearing the little beach by the coconut tree. I notice something that makes my drop the basket without a second thought. Me and my ally aren't the only ones on this island.

**Wasn't it obvious what was going to happen? you think. Sorry but you may be very disappointed... for now.**

**I've actually had this chapter done fore a few days, but first of all I didn't have time to post it (on a few of the days) and the rest of the time I was waiting for people to read the previous chapter. What would you rather, a few chapters all at once and then nothing, or spaced out to keep up the suspence? **


	23. Alone again

**I know you just made an assumption, not so smart of you ok? You'll understand the name of the chapter later, or maybe sometime in the chapter. Depends.**

The soft, small rectangle of beach looks very normal at first glance, but there is definitely something off. And I figure out what it is immediately.

Trailing towards the forest, away from the slowly rising tide and the already smoothed down sand that the water has lapped up, are footprints. A single set leads neatly up the slope, none leading into the water, only out. And as I approach, If find that both feet have a few missing toes.

Suddenly the jungle seems extremely foreboding, but I really do need to get back to camp. I don't want to face what may have happened while I was gone. It scares me that I might find the clearing empty.

But once I get there, I'm surprised. Rowin's sitting cross legged in the dirt, as if two tributes hadn't just died and our home been invaded.

"There's someone on the island!" I burst out. I don't know if I expected him to snatch up the bow and run into the jungle, but what he says completely throws me of guard.

"No there isn't." He states rather calmly.

I scrunch my eyebrows together and leave to get the bow myself. "Yes there-"I start before realizing the bow is no longer there. I spin around and scrutinize the clearing. "Where'd it go?" I ask bewildered.

"Where'd what go?" Rowin replies, tilting his head to face me since he's still sitting.

"The bow!" I exclaim exasperated.

"I don't know." He replies.

"Well it has to be somewhere!" I say, not really getting angry, just very scared as I begin rummaging through the camp and surrounding jungle. Lifting the vine basket and the berries when I realize something else.

The rabbit creature is nowhere to be seen.

"Could have left some for me." Comment rather sharply because this is very unlike Rowin. VERY unlike him, I realize.

"Left what?" He asks again.

I whip around. "Ok, what happened here while I was gone?" I demand.

"Nothing." He answers without shrugging.

I groan and begin unhooking the string weapon from around my waist and getting out a few knives. I toss one over to him which he catches with one hand.

"There's no one here." He repeats.

"Ok do you want me to show you the foot prints? Or do you want to wait till someone finds us and we DIE!" I demand. I was never very good with toddlers and it feels like I'm talking to one now. I'm starting to be convinced that something _really_ scaring happened. Possibly the severed toed intruder already got here, it would explain the missing belongings. I begin to really question Rowin's sanity as knowing him well enough, I know on normal circumstances we would be pouncing through the jungle side by side, weapons on the ready, scanning the world around us. Not _this_.

I wait in the clearing for a few moments before beckoning my ally to follow me into the woods. Even though I'm very scared, knowing someone could be around the next tree, waiting for us to pass, I would rather confront them face to face then be left vulnerable in the night. Rowin's still very calm, so much that it's annoying me even more. And as we reach the sand y shore that faces outwards to horizon, I'm half disappointed to find the rising tide has stolen away the ominous footprints. But the lack of traces calms me a twinge and I'm more confident after I pick up my previously dropped belongings and continue searching the rest of the island. And another surprise when after scrounging the forest deep into the afternoon, we find nothing. Not a single soul or footprint to be found. We return to camp weary and more than the least bit apprehensive. Well, that's speaking for myself.

I tuck my feet underneath me and absently test a few berries as Rowin "forgot" and let my mind wander. First the feeling of soft misty spray comes to me, and next it's the smell of dry rock and old earth, mixed with lush flora and a fresh breeze. The night air was warm, the flying speckles of water a different story. The near trees at the edge of the river canyon, silhouetted against the mist. A deep purple prevails in the scenery, but a strange orange that seems to emanate from behind, reflects of the falls. The same figure beside me as now, but no. Because now I feel alone, and the memory slips away. I am confronted by the strengthening fog and the ever-present human at my side.

Night comes after awhile and we dig into some of the edible berries and nuts. I don't feel full at all and I'm very miserable. I curl up on the leaf mats earlier than usual in hopes to let my mind slip away for a few blissful hours. But I realize life isn't merciful and after much twisting and turning in the darkness of the night, I find it's not just my thoughts that keep me awake. I can feel the sharp twang of pebbles on the leaves, I'm sure I swept it not too long ago, and so I ignore the poking. And again, after a while I realize I'm still not sleeping, and again I turn to the otherside and get prickled by the small bebbles. A huff impatiently and sit up to gather the stones. As I'm picking them up from the shade of the mossy boulder, I'm surprised by the shape, even in the shadow they seem to be lighter than any simple grey stone around here. Each about the size of the tip of my pinky. I get somewhere around ten before I decide to raise them from the shadow. Once their lit by the full moon, I feel nausea bubble up inside me and I choke back a scream. Because cupped neatly between my fingers are twelve human teeth.

I whip them to the side and rush out of the camp, wiping my hands on anything I pass. And soon I find myself on yesterday's ledge. I rub my hands on the stone around me and observe the arena. Oh I wish things where as simple as just trees, water, and air. No _teeth_! Why? Is it some sadistic gamemaker trick specially made to freak us tributes out? It's very possible they where fake and now I feel like a wiener. But I still have a horrible feeling that it's not that simple. The severed footprints keep jumping into my mind. I wish everything weren't so complicated. I feel more alone than ever before.

I huddle unnecessarily close to the precarious edge. And watch the swirling mist, letting it drown out my own thoughts. In a state of half sleep, because sleep now seems like something merciful but impossible to achieve.

No bird song accompanies the rise of the dawn. I blink softly at the light spewing sun, it's sure tentacles reach out from above the tree tops and silhouette the boulder like mounds that are clearing of mist.

I stretch my legs over the precipice, and slowly meander back to camp. But my ally is gone. I'm very worried at first, until I take his previous behavior into account. I don't dare go near the sleeping mats, and I'm surprised to find that the teeth seem to be gone. I'm suddenly interrupted by yelling.

"EMBER! I FOUND SOMETHING!" Rowin's practically screaming from what sounds to by the opposite side of the falls. I feel like attacking him because this is purely stupid. I'm very convinced he's not sane, so as the yelling continues, I rush across the river falls to got shut him up. I crawl soaked but angry out of the water, but as I jog into the jungle , it's not Rowin that meets me, it's a fully armed pack of careers.

**And no you're theory is incorrect. I'll just say that now because I'm 99% sure you are wrong.**

**Want to test me? guess and REVIEW!**

**=D  
**


	24. The countdown

**Takes place right after the previous chapter**

**Also sorry that I took so long to upload this, just that I had to load this and the next two at the same time for it to work.  
**

The third thing I do is wonder what kind of mess I just got myself into, the second thoughts is "why didn't I pull out the assortment of knives in my pocket? But the first, is I let out a yell of surprise while twisting back into the direction of the waterfalls. I feel the weight of a capitol net twist around me even before I can move onto my second action. I don't struggle, I've seen fish get wrapped up so tight they strangle themselves that way; instead I try to slowly pull my arm out from the tangle and maybe free myself. But the careers get to me faster.

It's Dazzle, Opal and Quake, and they have ropes, swords, and impressive backpacks. Even new clothes that camouflage into the surroundings.

I glare at them angrily while they bind up my arms; I don't know how they do it, seeing as I'm draped in the scratchy net. I get dragged along by Quake who's at the front of the line, even worse, he begins to sing.

_One little kitten,__**  
**__it lost its mitten,__  
__And then began to cry,__  
__Oh, mother dear,__  
__We sadly fear__  
__Our mittens we have lost._

_What! Lost your mittens,__  
__You naughty kittens!__  
__Then you shall have to die.__  
__Mee-ow, mee-ow, mee-ow.__  
__chopedy chop and you're pie!_

_  
__The one little kitten,__  
__it found its mitten,__  
__And then began to cry,__  
__Oh, mother dear,__  
__See here, see here,__  
__Our mittens we have found._

_What! Found your mitten,__  
__You stupid kitten!__  
__Then you shall have to die.__  
__Strangle, strangle ,smash,__  
__Then got shot into the sky._

Dazzle tried to hum along to the freakishly distorted tune, but eventually gave up. Opal grinned, so I gave her death stare. And somehow, it wasn't really fear that gripped me, it was annoyance, and anger. The unfairness that I could do nothing while they dragged me painfully across the scrapping rocks, to my death. I hoped it would be merciful.

It seemed like forever before we were crossing one of the dark and thin stony bridge as that spans the canyon below. I wonder how it could possibly hold anyone's weight.

The smooth surface is a relief, but the thin ledge makes my heart skip to many beats as I'm swung half over the edge. For the first time, I'm scared as we cross the jungle on the other side. We reach the cornucopia clearing after what seems to be much longer than I remembered.

There, a bountiful fire blazes with two figures standing over it. Shimmer and Mr. Psycho. Shimmers poking a stick absentmindedly and at regular intervals into the blaze, as the district seven boy holds a knife to her throat, before turning and pricking his own finger with expert precision. She doesn't seem to notice as he holds the bloodied pinky in front of her.

"just a little prick-" He murmurs into her ear before turning enthusiastically in my direction. I hate to be presented like this, and I feel extremely underestimated, not that any of that matters any more.

He seems to by no more than a year older than myself, but with average looking, shoulder length, wavy brown hair and childlike features. A wide smile and sparkling bright blue eyes. He grins even wider as I near and rocks back and forth impatiently.

_Oh god_. I've seen what this kid can do.

A ring of rough stakes circle the cornucopia. Some are freckled with… oh no… with pieces of human. Ringed with a dark stain on the grass. I'm tied in a sitting position to clean one.

Quake then plops down a few meters off and picks up a bag of chips or something. He pops a few into his mouth and laughs. Opal walks past and gives him a noogy which he responds to by roaring and spilling half the snack into the grass. He then sits back again to watch.

Watch what? The only answer sends ice shivers into every part of my body.

Dazzle goes off to fumble with a bow, the arrows landing randomly in the grass near the stakes.

"ooh! It's the _girl_." Says psycho, turning his eyes to face Opal. She raises her eyebrows at him. He ignores her.

"I've heard a lot about you!" He extends his hand in my direction. "The names Tizen by the way." He grins while bringing back his hand mockingly. My own are tied sharply behind the stake. I hiss involuntarily.

"OH!" He exclaims, twirling his fingers happily. "Kitty has a present!"

I crinkle my lip at him as he leaps of into the depths of the cornucopia. Quake pauses his attack of the chip bag and Opal stands up and peers after Tizen.

"What's that?" she demands, entering the golden horn after the boy.

"I didn't show you did I?" He giggles, the noise muted by the metal. "No, I guess I didn't." he continues while pushing his way out. He kneels in front of me, and uncups his hands. Whatever I expected, it wasn't what I see now.

There, blooming a soft white with strange red tendrils creeping from the burgundy stem; is a flower. A soft, pastel pink ribbon tied delicately around the stem. It's like a lily, but with fewer and more exotic petals, and a strange, dark red brown rim that coats the top edges. It sits in a cup of dark liquid, stigmas of sun like pollen sparkles on the inside. And suddenly, for the first time, I realize the lack of flowers in the arena. Not that I'm a flower person, but the sudden beauty makes me gasp.

Tizen caresses the edge, its soft frame barely flutters under his touch. A touch I myself understand.

He takes care not to smear any of the blood dripping from his fingers onto the snow white petals. And after a moment he looks up at me.

"hmmm, silly silly birdie." He murmurs half to himself. "Was very unhappy, poor kitty it says. A little flower resting in the blood."

I've stopped struggling because I'm so confused. Not that I know what he's talking about, but his words make me realize what the stem is engulfed in.

Blood. Very diluted, but blood all the same.

I bite the edge of my lip and press myself closer to the wooden stake. As far away as I can get from the boy crouching to near for my happiness.

"And then birdie stops working. Flippedy flop. No fun anymore. But kitty will be exiting yes?" He whispers questioningly, staring at me for a few moments as I bite my lip harder. So difficult to take my eyes of the clear blue ones before me. But when I don't answer, he leans slightly farther back on his heels and continues. "So I takes the wedding present, and add some fun too it. Silly kitty, can you keep a secret? " He rocks forward and flits his eyes around to the careers. "Then the lifers come and I go with them. They know very little." He grins. I wonder what's so secretive about what he just told me.

"Was kitty in birdies nest? I think so, but they promised me more than just kitty. So I keep present safe for you now. And-" He's cut off by Opal whose yelling at him for procrastination. He's about to turn away but flits back for a second, just as I begin the piece the story together. "I think they will enjoy cat fights." He grins and pulls the red dripping flower from it's little cup and drops it on the ground before me.

Tizen strolls towards the careers, and Opal hisses something into his ears. He replies with an impish smile that looks more wicked than happy. She waves him away after adjusting something around his ankles.

It's a chain. Don't know where they got it from, but that's the last of my worries.

What could be so horrifying that they'd keep it on a chain?

The half worded boy it seems.

I finger carefully at the ropes that bind my wrists. I could untie it, maybe, maybe not. I dig my fingernails into the rope nervously, the tight knot isn't undoing. Quake is chuckling obnoxiously and Dazzle graciously tosses the bow aside. Clearly it's not sexy enough for him. Opal yells at Shimmer who's pocking at the fire very indifferently; it's getting unnecessarily large.

And suddenly Opals behind me, untying the bonds. If only it was for my own good, because in my sudden burst of possibilities, I fail to realize Tizen.

He's very excited. Practically slobbering and combing the grass without taking his eyes off of mine. Because this is the cat fight, and while I'm the fuzzy kitten, he's the panther.

He clutches an arrow in his hand, an arrow misplaced by dazzle who looks queasy at the moment. An arrow in hand, an arrow not in hand. Because he releases it into the air just as I tug the tips of my fingers free. Opal has gone, Tizen's aim is good, and I have no time to avoid.

It happens fast. So fast I don't feel the pain for a few moments. So unlucky for me, but lucky in a way. Because just at that moment, the earth gives an enormous heave. Thin cracks split apart along the stone, similar to a thunderstorm of lighting. There's a terrible screech from something far away, and a rumble as if the sky itself was falling.

And not only that, but it feels like I've been blind all my life, deaf too. Because suddenly the world is clear. As if a deep rooted instinct to survive was suddenly revealed. Of course, in a time when there is no chance to do so.

So I run, try to at least. The careers have turned away, Tizen with them. And I don't have the strength to wonder why.

So I run. The tremor has stopped, though the ground is disheveled and there are too many times when I stumble into the undergrowth. Almost unaware of the horribly painful arrow lodged in my left lung. Only the strange way that even with all the adrenalin, my mind seems to slowing, my body with it.

And as I reach the cleft beside the gorge, I come to a horrible realization as a sense of déjà vu engulfs me.

Except this time I can't just dive into the water below, because there is no water below. And as I fall to my knees, feebly searching for the stone walkways that could provide a hopeless escape, I find them collapsed. Small chunks strewn about the canyon floor. Now twice as far away, a slick tangle of deadly rock pillars and mounds.

And with my hopes, go the sense of numbness, and a horrible ripping, chocking feeling finds its way into every nerve on my body. I half shut back a yelp, my eyelids flutter and my vision goes dark, just for a second. Because the will to survive isn't gone. Although my body is screaming for mercy, my mind refuses to let go. No matter how strained my breaths are, or how long in coming. The ground rises to meet me, and I realize that I'm clutching the silky snow crimson flower by the stem. Just held above the pool of blood that gurgles across the rocks. And I come to a realization. Something I could only realize now, when I don't have the strength, or even the need to pick at the details. Because all that matters is the revelation. And suddenly the flower goes from being a flower. To something far more. And like I said before, I'm no fan of flowers, but there's only one in this great forest. Great ocean of flowers, ocean of lives.

And the crisp clearness of my view stays on the plant. Not the blanket-like petals, or the nectar flowing center, but the veins of blood that tangle up the sides. Because now I know.

And my body is winning the fight now that I realize it. A sudden truth that I won't be alone on the other side. But I groan the last strands of thought retaliate. Because I no longer feel alone. No need to leave, I'm wanted here. Like comforting fingers holding my own. A reassuring squeeze that couldn't be real. As any feeling but the uncontrollable pain does not exist. Only the faint sensation that it is changing. Warmer, now hot. A scorching feeling coming from everywhere at once. I don't care what it is, I'm beyond reason. Just a faint wisp, ready to be caught in the tide of death. Struggling at the edge of the current.

And as my life's countdown tics down to one, I wonder why there are no more numbers.

**I like that ending. But no worries, it's not the _ending_ really. Next it's baout the victor afterwards. Read it, the last chapter should explain this big confusion.**

**And no I did not make mistake by putting Shimmer in this chapter for anyone with a good enough memory of the last couple chapters.**

**Review face the wrath of the careers. They're looking forward to it.  
**


	25. It was the end

**Short, fun to write. This is in the hospital when the victor is healing.**

The room was larger than the others. Rich walls that were set to nothing in particular. Soothing rain, swaying wheat, dappled leaves. The faintest noise in the background accompanying it, ready to be switched off at moment's notice.

There were three figures, or four if you counted the unconscious tribute that lay in the plush bed. Draped with the softest covers but hooked with countless needles and tubes. An array of liquids slithering into their ravaged and burnt frame.

On the other hand, the three doctors where quite healthy. All capitol citizens with well paid jobs. Not anyone is allowed to work on the victor of the fourth quarter quell. A mile stone for Panem. A century of undisturbed rule over the districts. This tribute would be a symbol of all the capitols power.

The woman sat one leg over the other, in one of the red leather love seats, occasionally lifting a crystalline glass from the polished mahogany side table. The older man sat in the seat near her and scratched his chin as the other man propped against the glass wall spoke.

"The hovercrafts where everywhere, smart to make them disappear like that." He laughs, swishing the ice cubes in his stubby glass. "Almost didn't get 'em in time even so, I was glued to the telescreen for hours watching that thing. Intense really."

The older man tapped his fingers against the arm rest disapprovingly and flits his eyes to the tribute on the bed. "Pure luck is all it was. No way to win a games that way."

"They do deserve it." The woman pipes up quietly, still stunned by the unusually peaceful view that lies outside of the glass window. Specially constructed as to not intimidate the patients. "I don't think it's fair to put these kids through all this pain."

"come _on_ Matilda! That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard since Tipi tried out that morphling stuff." The man by the glass wall laughs. The statement brings chuckles from the other two in the room.

But they quickly shush as a melodic beeping starts up from across the room, the victor stirs, and the three doctors rush to the bedside.

**=D**


	26. They where the victor

**PAY ATTENTION**

**So this is when the victor watches the recaps of the games. Should explain a lot.**

They thought the costume was horrible. The capitol disagreed, but the victor squirmed depressively in the mock version of the clothes worn during the games. What a horrible thing to do, all the victor wanted was to just forget. To have died before and have someone else lounging in this perpetually soft chair. They couldn't even bring themselves to realize who they were in the games recap that flashed on the enormous screen. They weren't even sure if they wanted to know what had happened in those strange moments of confusion and uncertainty. But they could not come to admit, that it was they who was featured oh so much on the television, watched by the whole of Panem.

And so the video began. The tributes rose from the podiums, and you could see the look of distress that rippled through the weaker tributes as a veil of mist settled over arena. The careers captured the cornucopia quickly, it would be their home till the games end.

The crowd seemed to grin as Ember was surprised by Quake, and chased unknowingly to the edge of a misted crevice. The victor was sure that all of Panem would have been holding their breaths in the moments that followed.

Tributes where killed off fast. And in the beginning, there were few alliances, but as the day progressed and the next began, the first of the careers –Thales- had died. And as the camera swooped down to the cornucopia, the crowd laughed. They knew what was going on as the Thales mutation stepped out of the forest unhurt. He caused a considerable amount of damage to the careers before later being killed… again. As much of a blow as it was to the any tribute in an alliance, it was to the victor. But it was only a detail. Something so useless now, almost forgettable. And so as the reporters cameras zoomed in and out in front of the watching winner, excepting waterworks as the video progressed, all they received where blank stares. They disserved nothing more.

Although Ostrix was with the careers for the first day or two, he was tempted away by the district eleven girl. She had found the alliance of her own district partner. And so it seemed she had beef with him, or knew they were a threat. For she planned the ambush that night. And she planned it to her own well being, to kill of three tributes with one stone. And Ostrix failed to realize the faults.

Catch them off guard, kill Ostrix, catch them even more off guard, kill them. How wonderful. Sadly not so as she was impaled on the knife protruding from the cave ledge. Simply placed to hold the vines that then camouflaged it. Coincident? Probably yes.

There were many deaths by careers. And many killed off by the landscape. Because it was made to tempt, to tempt luck, to tempt your chances. Gruesome deaths as tributes plunged to their deaths or where slowly ravaged by the acidic berries. Many others too, and many falling after their allies. Because they weren't their allies. They where their mutations.

Some days of boredom where skipped. And so where many deaths. Clearly lots of bets had been placed on the careers. Opal the smartest, most cunning. Dazzle and Shimmer, beauty and the other beauty. Quake, powerfull. Even Tizen, fear of the pack. Joined near the end.

And many capitol citizens loved the scenic views from Rowin and Embers camp. How beautiful, not only the spraying water, dashing sunsets and wonders, but the deaths too. And how horrible to watch. Ember gone, Rowin stayed. And the camera was on him as he retrieved the flower from its little nook. The beautiful creamy snow, strawberry pink, petals. A flower found in the darks of the night before. A trek back from the ledge of falls. The perfect time for those magical three words that were never heard. Because just as he finally adjusted the little bow to perfection, his district token, the noises started. And he heard them, that was clear. And as the figure emerged from the trees, he released the arrow. Because it wasn't her. It was Tizen. And the arrow struck, he fell to the ground. Both knew the shot was nowhere near fatal, and Rowin had already strung the bow for the killing blow.

But luck was with the district seven boy that day. And the view switched to the jungle as two figures raced through the trees. Opal and the last of the ten year olds. Sad to have lasted so long only to be killed. And hated for the fact too. Because as their canon boomed, Rowin was just pulling back the bow string. Clearly the boy in front of him was dead. Or so he thought. And in doing the smart thing, he whipped around to search for accomplices, only to be taken down by Tizen, seemingly unaware of the arrow that almost took his life.

The next moments where too gruesome to watch. And much was taken out from the recap. But the events where clear. Slaughtered at the edge of the once beautiful waterfall. Blood flowing to join the plummet to the pool below. Fourteen teeth, fourteen years. Placed specially for Ember to find. Last, unanswered goodbyes, and a lonely flower dipped in Scarlet. Fed on the blood, unwilted for his ally to find. Or maybe ally would be the wrong word.

And so as Ember returned. What she found was never the same again. A clone, a lost chance, and a sentence to death.

Because in the last stand of the careers, the very concoction of the capitol ruined some of the fun. And the capitol citizens knew what would happen. The victor could only guess.

So after having each remaining tribute rounded onto the cornucopia island, the gamemakers decided to finish these games then. To make a grand finale, a battle of the gladiators. And so they trapped the five sole survivors on the cleft ledge, and in the tremor needed to split the gaping hole in the rivers bottom, something else happened. Shimmer, in charge of the billowing fire. Made a mistake. Of course she made a mistake. Mutts can never be human, and her own mutt was her at that moment. And so the fire raged out of control. Opal ran from her position guarding Ember, to gathering up her allies in the quest to keep their camp alive.

Useless really, and so they found out. Because fire is known to spread quickly, to jump away with the slightest breeze or the smallest provocation. Much faster than a human can run. And after toiling to keep their home intact, Opal was the first to have a realization.

Ember surely dead, all she had to do was kill the rest. A perfect opportunity in the moments that followed. Confusion and craze, the careers began to scatter. Tizen quickly turned back in useless pursuit of his victim, howling in misery when the chain around his ankle restrained him. And caused a horrible death once the fire reached him.

And now there were three. Dazzle killed by Opal, Tizen killed by fire. And the district one girl was sure there was only Quake left. Little did she know there was more.

And so the camera found Ember. Like a fish out of water, because that's what she was. Half dead and not even able to gasp for air. Trickles of scarlet blood flowing from the clefts edge into the deep crevice below. For why she clung to the brink of survival, only she knew.

And soon Quake was killed. Pleading for mercy and cowering from his murderer. And when she was finished, Opal stood and waited. Just ahead of the fire, she was ready for the hovercraft. Not scared by the crackling fire the rose behind her. Because she was sure to be the last, the hovercraft would be here any second now, popping out from the trees like magic. A helping hand to get back home. But the fire found her first, and she ran. But she knew she wouldn't make it. And as the inferno engulfed her, there was nothing left to do but wait. Just in case.

Two tributes left, both on the verge of death. Not even breathing any longer, neither knowing the perils of the other. And it was hard to say who died first. But of course the gamemakers knew. Because as Opal let out a last cry of defiance, the horrible death of a golden eagle it was. Ember had just flickered out. A lost flame with a sad smile shining across her face. She never really wanted to win, but luck has a horrible way of finding you. Or leaving you. And the smooth metal arm came down soon enough, picking the last to die, because there is always a winner in these games. And the body that rose from the fire entorching the place that started and ended these games, was a flame herself. An Ember.

Because she was the victor.

I am the victor.

**Hope you liked it!  
**

**I know, I should have killed her. Really wanted to but couldn't resist the idea for this ending.**

**Any questions? mesage me. =)**

**Really exited to hear your opinions, PLEASE REVIEW EVEN IF YOU HAVE NEVER DONE SO BEFORE!**

**and a quick explanation just in case if I was being weird and unclear, Anyone killed in an alience is then replaced by a muttant copy of themselves. A copy which does no good, and often bad. Shimmer is one such copy during the third last chapter. So is Rowin after being killed =(. **

**Made me sad. **

**Make sure to visit my deviant art account at .**

**And I'll probably write one more chapter with Rowins point of view on certain things, Ember later on, and some background stuff (like why is there a pink ribbon.)  
**


	27. My life in one hand

**I'm doing a few explanatory chapters now, just a few things I wanted to add.**

**This is Rowins point of view during an unwritten scene.**

My pocket wasn't dry yet, and neither was the weathered ribbon that I fished out between my fingers. Just a little torn on the edges, almost no fraying threads, they'd been worn away a long time ago. Gladly the soft embroided leaf still stood strong. I ran my thumb along the pale pink fabric. Infinitely smooth from the many times I'd done this before.

I placed it on the fresh leaf mats, just beside the perfect little Robin. It was funny looking at the carving. As if a well hidden memory was trying to peak out from its niche. But nothing like the fully exposed memory of the last time the ribbon had been whole…

_They where there when I had left. Getting ready for the fair in the town square. Shopkeepers selling fresh merchandise, always so happy. Never a drop of bad weather, how wonderful was district eleven!_

_Layla almost ran outside in her undies. She was only four, with mom running after her waving a scruffy towel. She had just taken a meager bath, getting ready for the fun to begin. Mom bundled her up in her arms, just as Layla teetered to the door sill. Apple hot on her heels. He had just turned six. I was seven. And maybe that's why I was trusted to get the freshly cleaned and ironed clothes from the market, another special treat for today. We never had any use for an iron or anything like that. Usually we just cleaned everything in the creek that flowed through the dirt floor of our shabby but quaint little house._

_One of the last images of it, was of mom twirling in circles, Layla in her hands. Both with the same perfect dark hair and olive skin. Almond eyes the color of nuts, laughing happily. Apple tugging at her skirt, wavy hair, like my own, but the same exotic brown eyes as moms. I was almost a copy of dad, that's what Apple always said. I had never known how much that worried my parents. _

_The merchant was a friendly man. Dark skin and black curls. A broad chin and always smiling. He apologized for the inconvenience, told me the orders had been quite large, asked me to come back just before the festival, and placed the torn pink ribbon in my palm. It had fallen from Layla's dress. He looked distressed. I couldn't understand why, we could fix it right? _

_The trip back to the house would have been uneventful. Trotting along the hard packed pebbly dirt path stretched through waving hay grasses. The pond was near here, so I took a detour and wadded quickly through the water. It really _was_ hot out. I promised to return as soon as possible and join the town kids in their splash fight. _

_By the time I was back, my own world had disappeared. Not a flame left in the burnt wreckage, no bodies, nothing. Only the soft pink ribbon clutched in my hands._

**Poor kid. D=**

**Remember to review!  
**


	28. Mr Diabolical

**I had too much fun with this chapter. =D**

**I know I haven't uploaded in forever, but the main story is done and these are just background stuff. The last one was kind of depressing so this one is like the opposite, and it's not even my normal writing style. But it was unbelievably fun to write, like right up there with the last couple chapters.**

**Anyway, it's kind of random so hold on to your sanity. It's gonna be a rough ride.  
**

"TURN IT OFF!!"

Taurus Incledoss screams at the wimpy little man beside the fancy big desk.

"ok, ok.." The little man counters, waving his unoccupied hand in the air as if to fend off the barrage coming from the assistant head game maker. What else could you do if do if a big powerful guy with all too many connection with crazed leaders starts taking out their anger on you. The little man –whose name was Sully by the way- thought it quite unethical to blame an innocent little techy for your own screw-ups.

"Don't _underestimate _me! I promise that I will but kick you until you put out that mangy stupid fire of a disaster , and I don't _care_ if you personally have to run out with a fire extinguisher and, extinguish it or something!" The big important guy threatens, using much more inappropriate words than those recorded. Sully cringed, scared to deliver the truth to a diabolical sadist or whatever you wanted to call the man who stormed around the room ripping random stacks of paper to shreds. He nudged his own assistant -who had wisely hid under Sully's desk - with his shoe. His assistant then prodded the woman beside Sully who then did the same to the techy beside her. As each person cowered from the words that had to be stated, the poke drifted down the line of computers, before finding its way back up to the extremely fragile looking Sully.

"Ahh, well, you see sir… that can't exactly be done…" He admitted, twiddling his fingers to prevent himself from running out of the room in terror.

Taurus slowly turned around, foaming around a bundle of pens in his mouth; he spat them at the closest nerd he could reach.

"And why would that be?" He asks slowly, whipping the saliva from his mouth.

After a moment's hesitation, and a surprisingly painful kick from the assistant beneath the desk, Sully continued.

"Ahh, so, you see, precipitation, the rain system, if that's what you call it, is hooked up to the water supply seeing as it's there the entire games except, so, remember it's drained now?" He explains, wishing he had a pair of glasses to adjust while struggling not to point out that the assistant game maker had decreed the drainage himself. Of course, to trap the unsuspecting tributes on this cliff island thing to fight to the death. Except now, instead of fighting to the death like any goody goody gladiator tribute would, they were running for their lives from a fast approaching wall of fire. Well, most of them where. One was lying at the edge, oblivious to everything except for the fact that their innards where probably spilling out onto the cliff ledge. Another was chained to the ground and acting in a similar fashion to mister not so in control over here, while one was actually providing some entertainment and killing things for a – well- not so much for a change.

"And why is that?" Taurus asks, knuckles turning a very scary shade of blue against Sully's desk chair.

The silence that followed was just begging to be broken with a "Because of you MOTHER!", but of course, the only sound was that of the crackling flames from the monitors, the constant screams of which the hunger games seemed to consist off, some poor chaps head being lobbed off on live television, and the completely necessary sound of someone's bladder failing under stress.

"Ok then, I'm sure that if you where the smart people you're supposed to be –which you aren't – there would be a backup pump system or whatever. And you see? I save the day, AGAIN!" The assistant game maker exploded, not in the literal sense, just the way he said it was explosion enough to justify that use of the word.

"We do!But you know how much power it would take to pump a waterfall back into place!" Sully burst out. For the first rime surprised by Tauruses lack of Harvard quality education.

"You know how much power it would take for me to _implode_ your FACE!" Sir angry yelled, bringing his hand back threateningly. "NOT VERY MUCH!" He added- no- we'll use exploded again, that's fun word.

"OK! OK! I'm getting on it!" Sully whimpered, swiveling back to the touch screen monitor. He zoomed in on the disaster zone, he shaky fingers locating the river trench.

"whooly cow." Someone exhales quietly. "That kids still alive?" A few other nerds lean in to look at their own screens.

Sully didn't care, he pressed a few controls, typed in some numbers, and voila. "it should be filled within four hours." He stated, satisfied. He turned to look for Taurus only to find him not there. He swiveled further to find him standing, nose pressed against some unlucky techies screen.  
"kill it now." He demands, indicating the girl. "It might survive.

"You know that's blood loss times five hundred." The head game maker states, swinging open the double doors. A synchronized exhale of held in breaths could be heard throughout the room.

"ahh, well, I guess the audience will get a kick out of some gore." Taurus agrees, self consciously nudging the slobbery pens beneath the desk, only to have them pushed back out by a thoroughly disgusted techy beneath.

"I'll take over from here." The head Game Maker decides, eying the many empty chairs and the lack of window pane.

He swings himself into a chair and focuses on the monitor. "Distribute 15 hover crafts here, here and here." He orders, pointing surely at a few positions. "This is going to be a close call."

Murmurs of consent run through the wall as all attentions turn to the games.

There is silence for a few moments before someone speaks up.

"What happened with the sharks?"

"What where they for anyway?" The new guy asks.

"Disposing of unreachable bodies since the hovercrafts don't have long enough arms. " Someone answers automatically. "Yah what did happen to the sharks?" they add after a second of thought.

" I guess they died or something." Someone offers.

"no, they survived and became rabid monkey dinosaurs." Some guy counters.

"Bob, that doesn't even work." Someone laughs.

"Your face doesn't even work." Bob grins.

"That would be my doing." Taurus grumbles.

"guys, guys… and girls, really, we need to focus." Says the HGM –fancy short form for Head Game master, or hungry Gorlilla monster. Come to think of it, it could stand for Hunger Games Master which actually works equally well.-

More murmurs of consent.

"Why is there still I guy under my desk." Bob questions.

"Shhh!" a voice comes from beneath the desk. Bob blinks before lowering his head beneath the table. There's a moment of silence before Bob bursts out laughing… and then swearing as he smashes his skull on the underside of the desk. More shushes start up from down below.

"Oh my god guys!" Bob laughs, rubbing his head. "Ronny's crying!"

Silence. Bob found it strange that none of the supposedly mature adults in the room found that in any way a good reason to go and gang beet the poor guy.

A whimpering noise starts up from beneath the desk and two techies stand up to drag Ronny from the room.

"ok, back to work guys, girls." HGM repeats.

All eyes that weren't on the screens already, turn back to them yet again.

**And we should all know what happens next in the games, unless I'm just being confuzling.**

**=D**

**tell me what you think, or don't if your morals have been insulted or something. **

***snowwhiskers  
**


	29. Someday

**oh noes! I'm like whimpering right now D; I feel so...sad**

**Chapter dedicated to Allers3, thank-you for helping me find my inner remorse. **

**Rowin's POV, sniff sniff ): during the chapter "stupid nuts" I think. reread "They where the victor" If you're confused.  
**

The kid went down fast. An arrow to the shoulder was all it took, and a moment later his cannon was going off. I almost wanted to take a step forward, to make sure, but I knew better. There was a huge chance that there was another, that this kid was some decoy, a distraction. It seemed too obvious to be true.

I whipped around, remembering to string another arrow. Suddenly worried that maybe the decoy isn't here, that they might have already found Ember…

And it's true, partially, because there is nothing. And so the pain takes me by surprise.

It's not really sudden, I fall forward before my mind registers what's going on. And so I just manage to turn around, arrow griped in a way you might use a knife, but there's no time to pull one out now. And it's all too soon before the world goes blurry and explodes into darkness.

Water runs past my fingers, I twitch them in the current, and a moment later groan at the terrible thumping pain that pulses through my skull. I try to reach up with my fingers. No use. Other hand. Nothing. I'm pinned.

The world slowly blobs into focus. First it's the sky. All hazy blue and filled with bruised looking clouds. The tree tops come into recognition, the rock, and the water. I'm by the waterfall. I pull my arms up again, their bound. Somehow or another, I turn my gaze to look, but find myself staring into the eyes of the kid. The guy, it takes me a moment to realize he's dead. Not now, but that he really should be. I don't know if I want him dead, I cringe as a black haze swims over my vision. I struggle to stay awake. I force my eyes to focus, the kid smiles. I grapple the haze for a few more moments before I concour the sucking darkness that threatens to pull me under.

Tizen. That's the guys name. I'd say he's older than me, but something about his expression reminds me of a toddler. He grins. Such a creepy expression that the toddler comparison withers and dies in my mind. This is no kid.

He puts a deadly array of knives to the ground by his side, and leans forward. I strain my hands against the bonds that tie me down.

"hello there." Tizen greets. Like all sing-songy and weird that way. I stare up at him, unpleadingly. This is the hunger games, right now; I'm guessing his main personality trait to be something along the lines of cannibal.

I brace myself as he leans over to collect his "belongings" off the stony ground. I stretch my fingers forward, trying to grasp whatever might be near. My fingertips brush against a blade. I can't reach it right, the bonds are too tight, I wonder again how I could get out of them. One around my neck, holding my limbs to the ground, ten or so in total. I wonder if I could turn his attention away, get the knife or whatever by my fingers-

Pain. It comes fast this time, drowning out the throb of my skull. I clench my teeth together as sharp tingles reach up my hand. Tizen is there. He's not slow, the blade is in his hand. Well the handle that holds the blade.

He sits back and wipes the knife meticulously. I just hope that means his putting it away, and I hope he leaves- no. I don't want him to leave, because I realize what that might mean. If he, per say, stayed on the chain of island waterfalls… I close my eyes, trying not to think about what would happen to Ember if Tizen found her. The dull clink of an array of daggers accompanies my thoughts. I feel blood trickle across the ground.

I can see her still form behind my eyes. This is the hunger games, and I have already seen enough death in my life. Already had enough time to imagine the bodies of each and every one of my family members.

_Layla swinging from mothers worn dress. Apple bursting from the door. Father in the yard, green eyes flashing smiles at his children._

_Their bodies charred. Screaming. Layla gripping the hem of Mothers tattered dress. What if she were dead by then? I had always imagined Layla alone in the end. Fists pounding stubbornly by the dead bodies, not understanding why they wouldn't wake…_

It was not what I had seen, I had seen the ruins. There were no bodies. No trace. But I was all too good at imagining. I could see the scene replay, over and over. I had dreamt of their last moments, terror, pain. I never forgave myself for not dying with them. Although now I wished that maybe I could give myself up now, in place another.

I opened my eyes to stare up at Tizen as he began. But my mind wasn't in the present. It was far away. Sometimes with Ember, we could have been happy. I knew only one of us could have ever won the games, I hoped she would survive, I hoped it would leave her conscience unmarked. It was a delicate conscience that she had. Although I admired her for the strength she showed on the outside. And so, the pain was bearable at first, the way the red slashes bloomed across my vision, I let myself drift… until the end.

The end. When you stop feeling. When you are helpless and everything comes back to you like a storm. Like the rain you always sang to come back another day. You know that someday, it will all come back.

That was when I saw her again. Limp at first. As if she were floating in nothingness. Blood sweeping around in dark tendrils. Staining the golden strands of hair that floated around her face. Eyes closed in peace. Serenity.

But in this vision she was gone. I wished I could disappear too. Until I almost got my wish.

I couldn't see anymore, even when I tried. Even when I fought to escape the bonds that long since stopped imprinting their feeling into my wrists.

Disorientation.

Fear.

Determination.

I had only my imagination to rely on. And in it, Ember woke. But beneath the knife that I was under now. I was sure I could stop it. Stop what was surely happening to her. I my mind, her eyes pleaded, they didn't cloud, they stayed focused on me. Almost as if she were right there. Just out of arms reach. And then the screaming began. Reality no longer existed. Just me and my imagination which became too clear. Inputs from the surrounding world only faintly drifting into my thoughts.

But she was in pain. Whimpering, wheezing, screaming. Just barely holding on. And I could do nothing. While I was floating here, feeling… nothing. Nothing anymore. I wanted to talk to her. I told her to hang tight. I told her it would all be alright. Someday, she would get out of this. Someday, I would be freed from this also. Someday, our outstretched hands would meet. Someday…someday…

Someday we would meet again. Under the darks of this soft black blanket. Under the pull of nothing.

**.....................**

**BWAaaa! DX**

**since when do I right sadness? I don't even _read_ tragedy. D=**

**I put that period on the very last line and practicaly burst into tears. No joke. It took a dot... D;**

**dead Dx**

**Noooooooooooo**

**ok, I did skip all the intensive gore, and in case you didn't get the whole getto with the teeth.... refer to reareading previous author note. Remember the teeth? no? well now do you understand why I skipped the gore?**

***sniff sniff* ok.... Snowhiskers signing off.  
**


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